


Hell and High Water

by spudking



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Bisexuals on Boats, Cheating, Drunkeness, F/F, Pirate-typical violence, Racism, Slavery, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:10:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 53,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spudking/pseuds/spudking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the golden age of piracy. Asami Sato is counting down the days until she inherits her portion of the family business and can escape the boring life her father has mapped out for her, but with a notorious pirate apparently gunning for Hiroshi it won’t be plain sailing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting Sail

The footman opened the carriage door and helped Asami down onto the flagstones and blazing midday sun. She brushed herself down, letting the creases of the journey fall out of her dress. Mako stepped down behind her, uncomfortably hot in his long coat.  
“You forgot your parasol.” He offered her the item in question.  
“Mako, if you attempt to make me wave around that damn contraption for the five feet between the carriage and the door I will stick it somewhere the sun has never shone.” Asami replied, too quietly for the footman to hear and without letting the fixed smile shrink as much as hair’s breadth. Mako was just as careful not to smile as he took his place at her elbow, tucking the parasol under his arm.  
“Very well Miss Sato. Shall we? I understand an invigorating and stimulating afternoon of little sandwiches and cups of tea await you.”  
“Oh yes. It promises to be most entertaining.” Asami barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “And I suppose you will secrete yourself in a backroom of the house with a small amount of rum and lose half your wages playing cards again?”  
“Of course not.”  
“Good. Because you’d be an idiot to play with Marshall, Miss Rei’s man. He always has a deck hidden up his sleeve.”  
Mako couldn’t help but scowl.  
“I’d have to be a fool to fall for that kind of trickery.”  
“You would indeed.” Asami had the strong suspicion Marshall would accidentally walk behind a horse at some point this afternoon. A horse that had a tendency to kick, and leave bruises the shape of knuckles.

The shade was a welcome relief, the house clearly designed to make the most of the sea breeze. Asami bade Mako farewell at the door, bracing herself for the ordeal. The usual array of elder daughters awaited Asami inside, all made up in the very finest of dresses shipped over from the mainland, sipping from china cups and nibbling on dainties that were already being replenished by the household servants, silent people, with downcast eyes who faded into the background because they knew too well what being in the foreground could bring. Asami tried not to show her distaste for such arrangements. She wondered how many hours she would be expected to tolerate these simpering idiots when a voice from behind startled her.  
“Well, well. If it isn’t Asami Sato.”  
Asami turned on her heel. Things had just taken a turn for the interesting.  
“Miska. It _has_ been a while.”  
“Far too long, darling.” Miska smiled like a wolf.  
“It’s a surprise to see you here. I thought you’d moved on from us poor, unmarried folk.”  
“Oh, I have, I have,” But Miska was smiling a little too broadly. “Tahno just needed me out of the house today. Had a spot of bother with his latest shipment.” She lowered her voice, just enough for the entire room to lean forward eagerly to hear it. “It got hit by pirates. And not just any pirates. They’re saying it was the _Ravaa’s Revenge_.”

That set the cat among the pigeons. Asami didn’t take her eyes off Miska as she took a seat on the empty sofa, patting the cushion beside her as an invitation. Asami sat. She caught a few sensationalised snippets of conversation, rolling her eyes at Miska.  
“I hear they leave no survivors!” Miss Rei was eagerly telling the other ladies, and Miska laughed.  
“My dear, without survivors where would the stories come from?”  
Miss Rei deflated somewhat.  
“Besides,” Miska continued. “Our darling Miss Sato is proof enough that they leave survivors.”  
Asami could feel the heads swivelling to stare at her. What game was Miska playing?  
“Asami! You survived an attack by the _Ravaa’s Revenge_?”  
“Hardly.” Asami took gulp of tea, wetting her throat.

_It had been a fine day, sailing wise. The sun was shining, the sea was calm and the wind was in their favour. Asami had been stood by the rail, watching the seabirds keep pace with the boat, when the cry had come out._  
_“Sail! Portside!”_  
_There was a ship bearing down on them. The captain hurried to the rail, telescope in hand._  
_“Can you see the colours?” He yelled up to the crow’s nest. The call came back down at once._  
_“Great white squiggly critter on navy. It’s Ravaa!”_  
_“Then may the spirits have mercy.” The captain lowered his telescope. “I want every scrap of canvas out! We might still be able to outrun her, we have the wind!”_

_But they didn’t. It was painfully clear to see._ Ravaa _sailed as if wind and tide had no meaning for her, easily outstripping any vessel Asami had ever seen or heard of. Her father had been roused from his cabin and was busy berating the captain, pleading for him to coax a few more knots from the ship by any means necessary, but they were already at full sail._  
“Then we fight!” Hiroshi declared, but Captain Shu shook his head.  
“Against another craft, perhaps. But this is Ravaa, _sir. Our only hope to get out of this with our lives is to surrender and hope for mercy.”_  
Hiroshi looked ready to argue, right up until the cannonball shot across their bows.  
“That was a warning. They don’t tend to give a second one. I suggest we heed it, sir.”  
Hiroshi inclined his head, offering no further objection. Shu gave orders to spill wind and drop anchor, cautioning the crew to lay down any arms they might be carrying as the Ravaa _slid alongside. Planks were run out and the pirate crew boarded._

“I’ll never forget them. Any of them. Brigands and cutthroats and villains of all sorts. Like some terrible fantasy. And the captain...the captain was something else.”

_Good quality seal leather boots. That was the first thing Asami saw of the captain of the Ravaa’s Revenge. They wore blue, a heavy blue greatcoat, blue trousers. They strode aboard, one hand resting on the sword at their waist, a belt of pistols slung across their chest. The captain was a walking armoury, and all of the Sato crew stepped back in instinctual fear. They all knew the legends.  The captain’s expression was unreadable beneath the tricorn hat; the features had been rendered unreadable by war paint, like some tribal savage. The stories said when they killed they used the blood to add to the grey, white and black, and in that moment Asami would have believed it._

“And then they spoke. And I realised all the stories had been wrong.”

_“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” The captain’s voice boomed out, but it was not the baritone Asami had expected. The figure might be ambiguous under the heavy layers of clothing but the voice was unmistakably female._

“You must be kidding!” One of the women looked utterly scandalised.  
“My hand to the spirits,” Asami insisted. “The wolf-headed demon captain is a she, not a he.”

_The crew were quick to raid the ship, the captain seizing the manifest and directing her band of thieves as to what to take and what to leave. Asami’s fists were itching as she watched her family’s possessions be carried off onto the other ship. And then one of the pirates approached her. Huge and swarthy, covered in tattoos, and demanded the ring that hung around Asami’s neck. She stepped back, clutching it tight._  
_“Never.”_  
_“I wasn’t asking, you stupid...”_  
_He grabbed her arm, twisting it away, ripping the chain from around her neck, apparently not even feeling the punches from Asami. He threw her to the deck, but that didn’t stop her. She drew the dagger from its hidden sheath, springing up._  
_“You bastard! That was my mother’s!”_  
_She nearly got him. Full of rage, unthinking, she nearly got him. But when she stabbed there was a clang of metal on metal. The captain had got between them, catching Asami’s knife on her cleaver of a cutlass. There was no room in Asami’s heart for fear. She didn’t fight as the pirate pushed her knife arm back to her side. She made no attempt to take the weapon._

_“Pol?” The captain asked, and Asami didn’t understand until a crewmember stepped into the captain’s field of vision. He gave a terse nod. “Very well then.” She sheathed her blade. “Suma.”_  
_She didn’t have to ask twice. The ring was dropped into her outstretched hand. Asami watched, feeling the sweat beading on her forehead, her heart in her mouth, as the captain produced a handkerchief, carefully polishing the ring. She held it up the light, closing one eye, and nodded to herself._  
_“Here.” She held it out to Asami who snatched it, as if expecting it to be some kind of trick. The chain was broken so she slipped it into the knife’s sheath instead, to keep it safe and close._  
_“Why?” Asami asked, before she could stop herself, and the captain shrugged. The movement made the belts of weaponry shift._  
_“Some things are worth entirely too much to take. I’m a brigand, not a bastard.” She touched her hat, in some mockery of politeness. “Good day, Miss Sato.”_

_That should have been it. But then the crack of the pistol shot broke the air and Suma went down with a howl of pain, blood running down his leg. Two dozen guns trained on the source of the shot. Hiroshi Sato was clutching the smoking pistol, looking like he might be sick with fear. The captain closed the distance and grabbed it by the barrel, twisting it from his grip. She clubbed him across the face with the pistol butt, first one side, then the other. She tossed it down on the deck, drawing her own loaded firearm and forcing the barrel into his mouth._  
_“Get Suma back aboard, get him down to the sawbones!” She ordered over her shoulder, but the crew had already taken the initiative, three of them carrying their wounded member across the gangplank. Two more had trained their weapons on Asami, in case she got stab-happy again._

_“Mr Sato.”_  
_There was no change in her tone from before. Still personable, still polite. Hiroshi mumbled something, but the gun in his mouth made it unintelligible to Asami’s ears. Not so to the captain._  
_“I know. He put his hands on your child. But no harm was done, no honour besmirched, and the ring was returned. If anything Suma was the wounded party, even before you shot him; she did try and stab him after all so if you want to play that particular game we can break out the knives and pistols and there’ll be a feast for the shark-squids, and the winners will take all. You can nod if you like, don’t worry, my trigger finger is very steady.”_  
_Hiroshi was not daring to even breathe too deeply._  
_“I thought so. Mr Sato, let me speak plainly.” She angled the gun slightly up and Hiroshi rose onto his toes, trying not to gag. “You are a plague, sir. On this ocean, on this world. Everything you are offends me to the very core of my soul. Everything you have comes from the sweat and blood of others. I have no reason **not** to pull this trigger and send your brains splattering over the deck, and in fact many reasons to do exactly that. But...” She sighed heavily. “I do not care to make orphans, especially when they must watch the act. I am too soft-hearted, no?”_  
_She withdrew the pistol, wiping it dry of spittle on Hiroshi’s coat._  
_“Thank your daughter for your life, Mr Sato. And pray that we never cross paths again. My mercy is such a finite thing.”_

_The captain had one foot on the gangplank when Asami called out._  
_“Is it true?”_  
_She stopped, turning back._  
_“Is it true you were spat out of hell?” Asami demanded._

“You did not!” one listener asked, aghast. “Asami, what were you thinking?!”  
“That this was probably my only chance to ask.” Asami replied, straight-faced. Miska tried to cover her snort.

_The mask of paint still rendered her expression unreadable, but the silence that stretched between them, that had settled across both crews, spoke volumes._  
_“No.” The captain said at last, and there was a flash of teeth, a hint of a grin. “Something far worse than that.”_  
_And with that she crossed the plank, calling orders for the ship to go about._

“And that was how I survived the dreaded _Ravaa’s Revenge_ ,” Asami concluded, to her astounded audience. She tuned out the responses, the _well I nevers_ and _how awfuls!_ , watching Miska draw her fan and flap it about at herself.  
“I think that was rather too much excitement for me,” She announced, to clucks of sympathy. “I think I might go for a lie-down, if that is acceptable?”  
The hostess practically tripped over herself to agree.  
“Most kind of you. Asami, would you mind..,?”  
“Not at all.” Asami got to her feet, offering Miska her arm.

Asami waited until they were in the bedroom, behind a locked door, before she dropped the act.  
“You get less subtle by the day, my dear.”  
“Can you blame me?” Miska grinned wickedly, dropping onto the bed in a most unladylike fashion. “Stories of dashing pirates, well, I just can’t control myself.”  
“I never called her dashing.”  
“This time. Oh, and don’t pretend you were enjoying their company downstairs.”  
“They’re a bunch of empty-headed...”  
“They’re playing the game, Asami, and doing it rather better than you.” Miska replied, uncharacteristically sharply. “You might have a way out of all this that doesn’t involve hitching yourself to the best bet of a bad lot, but the rest of us have got far less to work with.”  
Asami dropped her head, a little embarrassed.  
“Now come on,” That hungry smile was back. “We have perhaps two hours before the knitting circle begins to worry.”  
“Two hours?” Asami sat down beside Miska, “However will we fill the time?”  
“Oh, don’t worry.” Miska pushed her back on to the mattress, hiking up her dress to straddle her. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

Asami tried not to moan too loudly, digging her fingernails into Miska’s back.  
“Easy,” Miska chided, “I had to fake a headache for a week last time so Tahno didn’t see.”  
“Sorry,” Asami panted, not sorry at all. “Maybe if you just...oh yes...”  
“If you can’t behave yourself...” Miska teased, withdrawing her fingers ever so slightly.  
“No, no, don’t stop, I’ll be good.” Asami’s need was overwhelming, lifting her hips off the bed, trying to press herself against Miska’s hand.  
“No you won’t.” Miska returned to her ministrations, making Asami gasp.  
“No, I won’t.”

Miska knew her too well. Well enough to keep her teetering on the edge as she pleaded for release before finally granting it. Well enough not to be surprised when Asami choked out the wrong name. She rolled off Asami, letting the woman catch her breath.  
“Three years,” Miska shook her head, but there was no bitterness. “Three years and it’s always her.”  
“What do you want me to say?”  
“How about my name for a change, hey? Make a girl feel appreciated?”  
Asami pushed herself up on one elbow, trailing her fingers down Miska’s stomach.  
“you want appreciation? I’ll show you appreciation.”  
“How about you put that smart-arse mouth of yours to better use, hmm?” Miska suggested, and Asami was only too happy to comply.

 

Every time Asami glanced up from her book in the carriage ride home Mako was staring at her, studying her. On the fifth time she slammed the book shut.  
“Do I have something on my face?” She demanded.  
“Not any more. You slept with her again, didn’t you?”  
Asami didn’t bother to deny it. Mako sighed.  
“Asami, you’re playing a dangerous game here.”  
“I’m not playing any games. It’s not...I’m not planning on stealing her away from her husband or anything stupid like that. We’re just scratching a mutual itch.”  
“Well your scratching could get you locked up,” Mako said seriously. Asami looked away. “I know about K...”  
“Please don’t say her name.”

It was more of a plea than a request. Mako swallowed. He was so far beyond the line of what would be acceptable that he wouldn’t even have been able to see it, but that was pretty much par for the course when it came to the Sato heiress.  
“I know what happened. The real story, not the official one. Asami, I’m sorry. But in a year your mother’s will comes into effect. You can get out of here, away from your father, away from the plantation and the bad memories and the simpering idiots. Just try and survive the year, ok?” he reached across the carriage and squeezed her hand. “And maybe take me with you when you leave because I honestly can’t stand your father.”  
Asami laughed.  
“That makes two of us.”

Asami put her book aside, leaning back against the carriage seats, trying not to remember a different hand that held hers, a different mouth that had kissed every inch of her. Almost three years and it still felt like there was a hole in her heart.  Mako might have thought that time and distance would make things easier but he was wrong. No distance, no time, no amount of fine wine or rum, no amount of fucking Miska would ever help her forget the girl her father had killed for loving her.


	2. A Sato Went To Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cracks are starting to show in the Sato household and an ill wind is starting to blow.

The worst part about the dreams was the waking after. The moment between sleeping and wakefulness when Asami could still see the head of tousled brown hair on the pillow beside her, feel the warmth of her skin on the sheets. And then her bleary eyes would focus and the pillow would be empty again, and her searching hands would find nothing but cold sheets. She slipped out of the bed, crossing the desk and finding her diary. She crossed through another day. Soon. She’d be out of here soon. But now wasn’t the time for dreaming. Now was time to face the day. Asami got dressed mechanically. No need for finery today, they weren’t expecting visitors.  She strapped the short knife to her calf anyway. It always paid to be prepared.

She straightened her hair in the mirror and dug a small box, about the size of a book, out of the drawer. It was made of solid, dark wood, polished to a gleam that rivalled the mirror. Asami unlatched it. Her mother’s ring sat on the top. Korra used to joke it was more of a knuckle duster than a ring, and it certainly was ostentatious; a thick band of gold inset with a large ruby. Nothing but the best for Mrs Sato. Asami hung it round her neck, tucking it down the front of her dress. She made to put the box away but faltered. The other item sat there, flush against the velvet lining. Asami pulled out the worn cloth, wrapping it round her hand like a rosary. It still smelled like her, somehow. Once this had been all Korra had had of her home. Now it was all Asami had left of her.

She made sure to lock it away before leaving her room.

Hiroshi was sat in the breakfast room when she went down.  
“Asami! Good morning.”  
“Father.”  
“I heard you were taken unwell yesterday. Are you feeling better, or should I send for a doctor?”  
There was something about his concern that made Asami sweat. _He doesn’t know. He can’t know_.  
“Much better, thank you.”  
_He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know._  
“I suppose this means I can’t persuade you to rest for the day?”  
“If I spent any longer resting I’d never wake up.” Asami brushed him off, pouring herself a cup of tea.  
“You can’t blame a father for being overprotective of his only child now,” Hiroshi smiled genially. “Oh, in that case you may wish to take the west path on your ride today.”  
“Any reason?”  
“The foreman caught one of the slaves hoarding sugar cane for himself.” Hiroshi looked only mildly irritated. “I know how much floggings upset you, hence the west path.”  
Asami’s stomach lurched. She set down the teacup, no longer feeling thirsty.

Like so many other Fire Nation business men Hiroshi Sato was up to his ears in the sugar trade. Oh, he had other interests, other ventures, but when it came down to it sugar was the backbone, the foundation. Future Industries might be his passion, but the fortune needed to set it up stemmed from a far less ambitious, far less moral trade. After all, nobody volunteers to work a sugar plantation.

“You could always just _not_ flog him.” Asami suggested, and Hiroshi laughed.  
“Oh, Asami. Please. You know what these Southern savages are like. Give them an inch, they take a mile. If we didn’t discourage theft they’d eat us out of house and home in a week.”  
_We own half the island, father. Half a fucking island. They could eat like you for a month and we wouldn’t feel the pinch._ Not for the first time Asami remembered the pirate’s words; “ _You are a plague, sir. On this ocean, on this world. Everything you are offends me to the very core of my soul. Everything you have comes from the sweat and blood of others”,_ and she could not help but agree. And what did that make her? The clothes on her back, the food on her table, the house around her, it all came from the same root. She repeated her mantra in the privacy of her head. _Give it a year. Give it a year and you’ll have half, and you can start making it right. Just give it a year._ But how much more blood would be on her hands in a year?

She took the west path, riding hard and fast, Mako barely keeping up. She chanced a glance over her shoulder every once in a while to see him, red-faced and bouncing around, barely staying in the saddle. Cruel? Perhaps. But it was just so damn funny to see.

They stopped at the lagoon, letting the horses drink. It was far outside the boundaries of the plantation, out into the untamed lands, out of sight of the fields of cane. The water was clear as crystal. Like the mythical land beyond the wild water, this was Asami’s private sanctuary. There were only two people she had ever brought to it, and they had been for extremely different reasons.

Mako overturned the hollow log, finding the bundle beneath, wrapped in oiled cloth to protect it from the elements. He tossed the first cutlass to Asami, claiming the second for himself.  
“You sure you’re up for this?” Mako asked, and Asami rolled her eyes.  
“Dad’s not here. We don’t have to keep pretending I was ill yesterday.”  
“I know. But I thought you might still be all weak at the knees.” Mako waggled his ridiculous eyebrows, and Asami found herself wishing they’d sharpened the blades.

She’d demanded to learn how to use a sword after the pirate attack. Or, rather, she’d been demanding to learn how to use a sword since she was old enough to know what one was. It was only after the raid Hiroshi began to listen to her, but the instructor he had found for her was still limiting her to a light wooden rod. Asami wanted to jam the rod up Master Yu’s backside but she doubted he’d notice; he acted like there was already one up there. Training with Mako on the other hand, now that was the real deal. He’d served six years aboard a Fire Navy ship before coming into her father’s employ and it showed.

It was hard work under the blazing sun, hard to keep pace and balance on the soft sand, hard not to be blinded when the sabre caught the sunlight. They were both soon red-faced and sweating, trading cuts and parries in the afternoon heat. Mako wasn’t shy about fighting dirty; nobody plays fair in melee. Yu’s school of delicate, dance like combat certainly had its place but Mako owed his life many times over to an unexpected knee to the stomach. Or slightly lower.

It was dark by the time they returned, following a very different oath to the morning’s ride. Asami dismounted outside one of the huts for the slaves. She unhitched a saddlebag and crossed to the door, knocking softly on the door. Four evenly spaced knocks, and a fifth swiftly following. The door inched open, not that the chain would allow it to open much further, revealing a narrow sliver of a prematurely aged face.  
“You shouldn’t have come.” The woman whispered, but she looked pleased to see Asami nonetheless.  
“How is he?”  
“As well as can be after twenty lashes.”  
Asami bit her lip. She reached into the saddle bag, passing the items one by one to the woman. Brandy, to clean the wounds and to keep the pain at bay. Bread, fresh baked that morning. Salted meat, stolen from the pantry. It wasn’t much but it was received gratefully.  
“Better get going,” Ummi warned her. “Guards’ll be round soon. Getting caught won’t go well for any of us.”  
Asami left.

Ummi’s warning couldn’t have come too soon. Asami had to duck into the shadows to avoid one of her father’s men as he struggled to light his cigar. Her foot nearly turned on a rock. Asami looked at it, then back to the grumbling man in front of her, and the whip stuck through his belt. She stooped, grabbing the rock. Before her courage could fail her she took two steps forward and cracked him soundly in the back of the skull with it. He went down like a felled tree.

Mako had come to find out what was taking so long and arrived just in time to watch the overseer’s eyes roll back into his head. Asami patted down the body, finding the ever present flask. She emptied it over his face and shirt, soaking him in rum. She dropped the empty flask by his hand, creating a nice little tableau for whoever found him in the morning.  
“Tut tut. Drunk on duty.” She sighed dramatically. “Father will be _so_ upset.”  
Mako shook his head, torn between disbelief and approval.  
“Come on. Let’s get back before your dad has a heart attack.”

She dreamed of Korra again that night, and woke with the scar from their first meeting itching like it was healing all over again. She sat up, and saw the figure in the doorway. She didn’t stop to think, just grabbed the nearest heavy object and hurled it. She recognised the wheeze of pain.  
“Dad? What the hell?!”  
“You were...you were screaming.” Hiroshi said awkwardly, straightening up and rubbing his stomach where the book had connected with him. “May I?”  
Asami nodded and Hiroshi sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping. Asami tried to subtly wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, sitting back against the headboard.  
“Bad dreams?”  
It wasn’t like she could deny it.  
“Was it about the time on the boat?”  
Asami stiffened. Hiroshi sighed, taking off his glasses. “You were yelling _her_ name. I assumed...”  
“No. Not the boat. The factory. The explosion, the fire.”  
“Ah.” Hiroshi looked down, polishing his lenses. “Yes. If I had known then, things might have been different.”  
They sat there in silence.

“These last few years. They’ve been hard for you, I know.” Hiroshi said softly. “I know I’m not the greatest father. I should have protected you, and now I should be able to make you feel safe, happy, content. All my wealth and I can never help the ones I love.” He swallowed. The moonlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains. “I’m so sorry, Asami. I had hoped normality might make things easier for you; taking tea with young ladies like yourself, balls and parties, enjoying the island, but I can see it’s not working. And I can’t bear to see how you’re hurting.”  
“Dad...”  
“Please.” The moonlight was glinting on his cheeks. “You are the most precious thing in my life. And as much as it pains me, I think it might be best for you to...” he took a steadying breath. “If you wanted. To leave the island. I’m not exiling you, Asami, this is your home. But if you think distance might help, well,” he smiled. “There’s a port a few weeks sail from here, and they have most unusual wares. I need them for my latest project. I was going to send Lee, but you always could out-negotiate any of my staff. Why send the student when you can send the master, hey? Was that a smile, Asami? Are you smiling? It’s been so long I don’t think I remember what it looks like.”  
Asami’s eyes were damp, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity she let Hiroshi pull her into a hug.

The next few weeks were busy with preparations for the upcoming voyage. A ship had to be found, a crew hired. Asami was a little surprised to find that she would not be bartering for the wares. Apparently their merchant was unwilling to deal in anything bar cold, hard cash. The idea of taking to the sea with a hold full of gold was somewhat unsettling to say the least, given Asami’s last experience of the high seas, but she tried to reassure herself with the knowledge that the ship was outfitted with the finest Future Industries cannons. She’d designed them herself. No pirate could hope to match them for range or power. It would be enough. Besides, she’d convinced Hiroshi to have Mako accompany her on the trip. He might be a surly, shark-browed pain in the ass sometimes but she would happily trust him with her life.

“You know, dad, you still haven’t told me exactly what I’m going to collect for you.” Asami realised one night, halfway through a delicious dinner of hippocow. Asami had already made a mental note to thank the chef later. This whole charade, the formal dinner, the array of cutlery, the dressing up, might be ridiculous but that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the efforts of the veritable army of household slaves that went in to each meal. Of all the varying classes of Sato salves they certainly held the most enviable positions it was true, but their grip on them was so much more tenuous. The threat of being sent to the field or the factory was ever present, like a sword of Damocles. “If I don’t know what it is, it’s usual price, how easy it is to come by, how am I supposed to make sure I get you a good deal?”  
Hiroshi paused.  
“How remiss of me.” He took a bite of his dinner. “It’s a kind of vine.”  
“A vine.” Asami repeated flatly. “Are you trying to open a new vineyard? Because the last one...”  
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Hiroshi shook his head. He did not like to discuss the unmitigated disaster that had been his vineyard. “These are a rather singular kind of plant. Very rare indeed. And they have some truly remarkable qualities that I think could prove extraordinarily useful.”  
Asami didn’t exactly look impressed.  
“The Southern barbarians call them Spirit vines.” Hiroshi added. “According to their myths they only grow at the heart of the poles and beyond the wild waters, but that’s nonsense. Still, they certainly are something special. I’ll show you, when you come back.”  
His voice wavered slightly. If Asami had been sat close enough she might have been tempted to reach out, to put a hand on his arm.  
“I’ll be gone a month at most.” She tried to console him. “It’ll be over in a blink, just wait and see.”

The morning of the voyage dawned far too slowly and all too soon. Hiroshi had been completely overwhelmed at breakfast that morning, hugging Asami over and over, practically in tears. Mako had just stood there awkwardly, trying not to make eye contact. He did the same thing at the dock, and it took a while for Asami to persuade him to let her go lest they miss the tide. He watched the pilot ships guide them out of the harbour, and Asami could feel him watching even as he faded into a speck on the horizon. Asami felt an unexpected pang of loneliness as the harbour, and then the island itself began to shrink into the distance. Love it or loathe it, it was all she had ever known.  
“You ok?” Mako asked, leaning on the railing beside her. Asami nodded. Mako was unconvinced. “You know, we could just run.” He said it quietly, in case of curious crew members. “Use your father’s gold, pay off the crew and still have enough to set up somewhere new. It wouldn’t be much, but you’d be free. Free of the Sato name, the Sato stain.”  
Asami didn’t even think about it.  
“I can’t just flee, Mako. If it were that easy I’d have been gone long ago. I need to make things right. I made a promise.”  
“To...” Mako checked himself. “To her? Because the living don’t owe the dead anything, Asami. She’d want you to be happy.”  
He knew at once he’d misspoken.  
“Never, _never_ , act like you knew her better than me again.” Asami said, voice cold. “And for your information I am perfectly capable of forming an opinion regarding the reduction an entire civilisation into nothing more than a source of cheap, disposable, subhuman labour _without_ needing to be lovesick over someone. I made that promise long before I ever laid eyes on her. I just thought we’d be doing it together.”

“They believe in reincarnation, you know,” Mako said, after a moment’s silence. Asami did. Korra had loved teaching her all about the Southern Water Tribe myths and beliefs, about the spirits and the powers they had bestowed on their followers in days long past. It had been hard to tell how much of it Korra had believed in but Asami had cared more about her way her eyes had lit up when she talked, about how animated she had been.  
“I’m just saying, if they’re right, maybe you’ll find her again. Maybe she’ll come back to you in some form or other.”  
Mako seemed to be in earnest. Asami leaned against him, watching the speck of some seabird flying out towards the horizon. It wasn’t a bad thought. Perhaps it was a selfish hope, but any hope was better than none.

The seahawk landed on the ship’s rail with a harsh caw. A green-clad sailor held out his hand and it climbed on, accepting the offered fish.  
“Good girl. Leg, please.”  
It proffered one set of talons. A tiny leather pouch had been fitted round the leg, and the man delicately removed the scrap of paper from within. “Oh good girl, very good girl.” The hawk swallowed the next fish in one. “The captain is going to be very pleased with you indeed.”

The message was relayed to another crew member who hurried to the cabin, knocking before entering. The captain was sat at her table, studying the map by lamplight.  
“Sir.” The pirate cleared her throat. “We received a messenger hawk from Ozai Island.”  
The captain did not look up, gauging the distance to the nearest shipping lane.  
“Message reads ‘A Sato set sail. For Dragonspine island’.”  
The captain took the fragment herself, reading the spidery scrawl.  
“Well, well. Looks like we’re changing course.” Her searching finger found Dragonspine, marking with a pin the likely position of the Sato ship. “Inform the crew to adjust course and give full sail, and give the bird an extra fish. I have an appointment with Sato that’s long overdue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is why clear communication is important, people! You never know when you might send a vengeful pirate captain after the wrong person. 
> 
> Feedback makes me happy, and happy me writes faster. You can find me on tumblr at spudking.tumblr.com


	3. A Captain Came To Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami's memories might just kill her, if the rest of the world doesn't beat them to it.
> 
> *Edit* Fixed what went weird during the uploading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning; this chapter contains threats of sexual assault. I didn't want to slap a whole series warning on it because it's not that kind of a story so I figured I'd play it safe and do a warning here (and I'll continue to do so with future chapters if it comes up again).

Asami was bored to death. There was very little to do aboard ship, and most of Zolt’s crew treated her like a nuisance to be endured rather than the representative of their employer. They would answer her questions when pressed but would do so with the absolute minimum of words uttered and make it very plain that there were other matters they needed to attend to that were far more pressing. Mako was, as ever, a less than stellar conversationalist. She tried to keep up her practising but, while she had stowed the sabre in her luggage, the sound of clashing swords would have been too much of a giveaway. To her very great chagrin she found herself once again reduced to waving around a piece of wood. At least the pitch and roll of the deck beneath them added a new element to her training as they fought around the furniture in the master cabin.

The dreams were worse out here. The rocking of the boat, the smell of salt and the cries of the seabirds, it was like being trapped in a memory. She walked endless laps of the deck to exhaust herself but her tired body had no affect on her mind. Mako was extremely sympathetic and entirely unhelpful.

Asami woke early one morning, drenched in sweat from the nightmare. Going back to sleep would have been impossible so she got up instead, all but tumbling from the swinging bed. She pulled on her usual shipboard attire of a simple red shirt and black trousers, knife hidden inside her boot. Asami had no desire to dress up for the crew, and it made the ladders and hatches far easier to navigate. She climbed up onto the top deck, into the cold predawn light. There was an unseasonable sea fog, clinging to the ship with cold tendrils. Asami shivered as she leant against the rail on the foredeck, but it was better than being below or shut up in her cabin. She tried not to remember warmth, soft skin, those arms round her. She knew the sea could be cruel, but this was just torture. Her mind was a mess of sighs and screams, euphoria and despair. The first kiss, so soft, so slow, and the last, all too quick all too brief, snatched between iron bars and split lips and cheeks wet with tears. They never should have done it. She never should have done it. They should have waited. _They should have barricaded the damn door._

Every moment of that day was seared into her brain. Every second. If she closed her eyes she could be back in the cabin, tangled up with Korra in that too-small-for-two suspended cot, the bed swinging in a manner that nothing to do with the rocking of the boat. They’d be so stupid, so carried away with each other and their dreams of the future, and they’d lost it all.

 

The captain of the _Ravaa’s Revenge_ knelt before the little table and its burning incense. She applied the war paint with reverent precision, exaggerating the angles of her face. She armed herself with the same solemn grace; a sword, a boarding axe, a half-dozen pistols, already loaded and primed. Below decks the crew were similarly outfitting themselves, though most with far less ceremony. 

 

“You’re up early.” One of the crewmen frowned at Asami, his tone an accusation. Asami bristled.  
“I can rise whenever I fancy, thank you.”  
He just stared at her, and there was something in his expression that made her feel very uneasy.  
“But you’re up early,” he repeated, as if that would somehow change matters. Asami took a step back, fingers itching to go for her dagger.  
“What’s it to you?” She demanded.  
The _crack_ of a pistol shot broke the early morning air.

Asami spun. The shot had come from aft of the ship. From the cabins. The crewman grabbed her arm and Asami reacted on instinct. Mako would have been proud of the right cross to the man’s jaw, the knee strike to the groin and the finale shove of the shoulder that sent him toppling over the rail and into the sea with a howl and a splash. Asami drew her knife as the rest of the early watch turned to her.

Mako exploded out of the hatch. He had a bloody cutlass in each hand, dressed only in his trousers and vest.  
“Asami!” He roared, cutting down the first crewman to try and block his path, the belaying pin no match for cold steel. “Asami, the crew...”  
The shot rang out and Asami screamed as scarlet bloomed across Mako’s stomach and he crumpled. Behind him Zolt exchanged his fired pistol for a loaded one. He didn’t run, just walked calmly over to Mako, booting him in the side so that he rolled onto his back. He drew back the hammer of the flintlock, aiming it squarely at Mako’s forehead.  
“Good morning, Miss Sato!” He yelled. “I wonder if I might have a word with you? A little more face-to-face?”

 There were dozens of them. Some armed with weapons, some not, but it made no difference. There were too many. The knife in her hand might as well have been a toothpick. Asami slid it into her sleeve with shaking hands, trying to steal herself. She would not let them see her fear. No matter what.

Mako’s breath was coming in ugly, short gasps, blood seeping from between his fingers.  
“Don’t...” he managed as Asami drew near, and then he cried out as Zolt planted his boot on his chest. “’sami...don’t...”  
“Oh, shush you!” Zolt scolded, turning to Asami with the air of a gracious host. “Sorry about all this, Miss Sato. We were given very specific instructions, but you rather messed that all up.”  
Asami could feel the crew closing in behind her, like a pack of jackals.  
“If you’d just stayed in bed this would have been so much easier. One quick bullet in the brain. It would have been painless.”  
“My father...” Asami began, but Zolt just laughed.  
“Your father? Miss Sato, who do you think hired us?”

Zotl’s smile grew as he saw his words hit home.  
“Did you really think he was going to sit by and let you walk away with half his empire?” He asked mockingly. “Did you really think he’d let you ruin everything he’s worked for? Oh, he wept when he gave me the order, but he gave it. Made it very plain he didn’t want you hurt but...” Zolt sighed, with an air of regret. “Your boy here killed three of mine below. That’s got to be paid for.”  
“That’s four you lost then!” Asami spat, and she saw the flash of surprise on Zolt’s face.  
“You’ve got spirit. I like that.”

It was like a line from Miss Rei’s more tawdry books. Asami’s stomach lurched. She could feel the hot, foul breath on the back of her neck from the crew. She gripped the hilt of the hidden knife.  
“Don’t you dare, you fu...” Mako began, but Zolt stomped hard on his bleeding gut and he cut off with a strangled scream.  
“Fiery one, that one,” Zolt said conversationally. “Could have been a great addition to the crew. But he just _had_ to protect you. How does it feel, having someone die for you?”  
Asami already knew exactly how that felt.

She couldn’t look at Mako, couldn’t tear her eyes from Zolt’s cold, amber gaze.   
“I’m going to make this very, very simple. If you’re nice, if you’re a good girl,” He leered, “I’ll put one in his head. Save him spending the next few hours bleeding out in agony all over my deck. If you don’t, well, I’ll start by putting another bullet in his knee. And we’ll just carry on from there. You’re supposed to be a business woman, isn’t that the pretext for this little trip? You should recognise a deal when you see one.”  
“’sami...” Mako shook his head weakly. “Don’t. It’s ok. It’s ok.”

_“It’s ok, ‘sami.”_  
_Korra smiled as best she could with one side of her face a bloody mess, her eye swollen almost shut. Hiroshi’s rage had been terrible, primal. Asami had never seen that side of her father before, had never guessed it lurked under the easy smiles._  
_“This is not ok!” Asami was struggling to keep her voice low. They hadn‘t felt the need to guard the brig, not with Korra manacled, shackled and beaten so badly that a heavy door alone would probably have been enough to confine her, even without a lock, but ships were busy places. Anyone could be passing by. “Korra, this is not ok! He can’t do this, he can’t...”_  
_“I’m property, ‘sami.” Korra raised her manacled hands with difficulty, tugging down the neck of her shirt to reveal the Sato cog branded over her collarbone. “He can.”_  
_She was huddled in the closest corner of the cell, Asami sat on the other side of the bars. Some of Korra’s fingers were almost certainly broken; Asami didn’t dare squeeze her hand as tightly as she so desperately wanted to. They leaned against each other, trying to forget about the bars between them._

_“I’ll...I’ll change his mind. I’ll explain, I’ll...”_  
_“Asami.” Korra sounded tired. No, not tired.  Resigned. “That’s not going to...it won’t...please, don’t. Don’t beg that man for anything. Don’t give him that.”_  
_“What, you value your pride over your life?” Asami snapped. Korra looked away. For the first time since Asami had entered the brig Korra looked away and it hurt more than her father’s fists._

_“You’ve done something.” Asami realised, and by the way Korra’s shoulders slumped even further she knew she was right. “You...what did you do? Korra, what did you do?!”_  
_Korra rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand._  
_“You’re going to do so much, Asami.” Her voice wobbled. “So much good. You’re going to save so many lives. But you can’t save mine.”_  
_“What did you do?!” Asami demanded, gripping the bars like she could rip them from their anchors. Korra swallowed._  
_“The only thing I could. The only way I could protect you. If your father knew, if he thought you were...people like us, we don’t fit. We don’t fit this world. He’d have locked you up in an asylum, and you’d have rotted in there instead of... ”_  
_“Korra, please.” Asami wasn’t even trying to pretend she wasn’t crying. “Please, just tell me. **Please**.”_  
_Korra wouldn’t meet her eyes. She couldn’t._  
_“I told him I forced you.”_

“Don’t.” There was blood bubbling on Mako’s lips. “Don’t. It’s ok. It’s not your fault.”

_“I love you.” Korra’s eyes had ever looked so blue as they did then, her voice had never sounded so strong. “I love you. And this is not your fault. It’s not. I was dead the moment he found me in your bed. I was dead the moment they first put me in chains. Every moment we had we stole, and I don’t regret it. I don’t.”_  
_Asami couldn’t speak. Korra hesitated for a moment and then began, with great difficulty, to tug off her armband with her chained hands. She had to twist her arm half out the socket but she pulled it free, pushing it between the bars. Asami took it with shaking hands._  
_“I love you.” She repeated. “I love you, and this isn’t your fault, and you’re going to make a world where this can never happen again, you hear me? You’re going to reshape the world for the better.”_  
_Asami curled her fingers tight around the worn cloth and pushed up against the bars, kissing Korra through rusted iron. She tasted of metal, of blood and salt and tears._

Asami swallowed. She drew closer to Zolt, ignoring Mako’s pleas. She reached out, taking his lapels. Zolt grinned.

_“Promise me you won’t listen.” Korra asked, and Asami caught the tremor of fear in her voice. “When they take me out of here. Please. Don’t watch. Don’t listen.”_  
_“I’m not leaving you to die alone!” Asami objected, but Korra was shaking her head._  
_“Please, Asami. Don’t. I don’t want you to remember me like that. Remember us.” She kissed her again. “Remember the lagoon. Remember lazy mornings in the sunlight and learning to swim and making love and just being together. Being happy, being in love.”_  
_Asami kissed her again, nodding. Korra smiled weakly._  
_“Hell, I so called this, didn’t I?” Her voice wavered. “I told you. ‘It’s a funny old thing, that I’d be hung for doing this when...when...’” her words failed._  
_“’When a guy would have to be hung to even do half as well’.” Asami finished for her, and she laughed because she was already crying. “Spirits, Korra, that is not being the last thing we say to each other!”_  
_“I figured the mood needed lightening. Please, Asami. Remember me. Vices and virtues, stupid, inappropriate puns and all. Remember I loved you.”_  
_“I could never forget you.”_

Zolt moved in for the kiss. Asami took a deep, steadying breath. She could smell his breath, count the pores on his nose. Could see his eyes go wide as she sank her teeth into his lip and tore away. She slashed with the knife, opening a line of red down his arm, not feeling the blow to her face that sent her toppling backwards. She spat the chunk of lip onto the deck as Zolt stood over her, clutching at his bleeding face.  
“You stupid, fucking whore!” He spat. “I’ll make you scream for that! Viper, get the bitch...”  
Viper grabbed for her. Asami stabbed down, pinning his hand to the deck with the knife and taking the man’s sword and pistol from his belt as he howled.  
“Make me scream?” Asami challenged, training the pistol on Zolt. “Like that?”

Viper’s screaming gave way to a whining sniffle. The crew were in no hurry to step into Asami’s range. Mako might have been chuckling, it was hard to tell.  
“So what’s your plan now?” Zolt asked, trying to staunch the blood with a handkerchief. “Going to hold us all at gunpoint til what? Your legs give out? Time ain’t on your side, neither are numbers. That gun feeling heavy yet?”  
Asami’s arm had already begun to ache. She didn’t reply.  
“Soon your muscles’ll start screaming. And eventually you’re going to drop it. And when you do you’re going to wish you’d died quick this morning, because when I’m done having my fun I’m going to throw you to the crew. Have to do something about those teeth first though, would hate to end up with my boys singing a higher pitch than they used to.”  
“Shut your mouth or...”  
“Or what?” Zolt spread his arms to the misty ocean. “Look around you! There’s no rescue on the horizon! Nobody’s going to hear you begging and screaming. And I’ll go home and tell your daddy I did the job quick and clean, and he’ll give me the rest of the money, and all the while you’ll be strapped over a canon for the use of anyone who’d risk a two-bit whore like...”  
_Crack_.

Asami saw it all in slow motion. The bullet entered behind Zolt’s right ear, barrelling through his skull. It punched it through his eye, leaving a ruined mass of flesh in its wake. Zolt seemed to stay standing for a moment before his knees buckled. He hit the deck face down. 

All eyes turned in the direction of the shot. Asami didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The pirate captain was stood on the rails, the pistol in her hand still smoking. Behind her, hidden in the diminishing fog, loomed the four masted figure of the _Ravaa’s Revenge._  
“A Sato.” She said. It was an odd greeting. “A. Sato _. A. Sato_. I am going to _kill_ that drunken idiot. Still, seems this trip wasn’t such a waste of time after all.”  
She stepped down onto the deck. With every step she took the crew take a corresponding step back. She gave Asami a nod that Asami wasn’t sure how to interpret, until the captain positioned herself between Asami and crew, sword in one hand, axe in the other. “Hiroshi Sato’s private crew of bastards. Oh yes, this is a most fortunate trip indeed.”

Asami hurried to Mako. He was still breathing, just, his face grey with pain. Asami ripped a chunk from Zolt’s coat, pressing hard on the wound.  
“Did good,” he said faintly. “you...you did good...”  
“Just hold on, Mako. Hold on.”

“You’re really going to try take us all?” One of the crew asked, full of false bravado. The captain laughed, shaking her head.  
“I could use the exercise. But...” There was a thud of a gangplank hitting wood. “My crew are all riled up for a fight.”

Asami jumped at the gentle hand on her shoulder. She found herself looking up at a girl, perhaps in her early teens, hair pulled back into two buns.  
“We’ll take him to our infirmary.”  
“We...”  
Others had gathered, bringing a stretcher with them. They didn’t wait for Asami’s permission. Mako moaned in pain as he was lifted onto it.  
“Our doc’s really good,” The teen reassured Asami. “If anyone can help him she can.”

“We don’t have to fight!” Viper blurted. He’d been unpinned from the deck and was clutching his ruined hand to his chest. “We could...we could join you!”  
It was the wrong thing to say.  
“I wouldn’t dirty _Ravaa’s_ hull by keelhauling you on it.” The captain growled. It was enough to spark the first shot, and all hell broke loose.

Asami paused on the gangplank. She saw the captain in the melee, her coat billowing out behind her as her axe cleaved the head off one of Zolt’s men, the blood splattering across her warpaint. Asami hesitated, but what choice did she have? Pirates, murderers, or the merciless depths. She squared her shoulders and strode across the plank, each step taking her further into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, I've had a bunch of back-to-back closing shifts and nothing quite stifles creativity like a 2 am finish. And feel free to yell at me for being mean in the comment section! As always, feedback is very, very welcome. If you want I'm on tumblr at http://spudking.tumblr.com/


	4. The Smoke Clears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami tries to get a handle on her new reality, and a long awaited reunion takes place.

Asami was led the master cabin and sat at a table cluttered with charts and maps. She tried to look proud, unshaken, but the fact was her knees had been threatening to fold. The adrenaline was leaving her system, leaving her cold and wobbly. She tried to distract herself with her surroundings; the cabin looked far more homely than the stateroom on her father’s vessel. More lived-in. A wide-bottomed pewter mug was weighing down one corner of the map, with a generous measure of rum still inside. It was looking awfully tempting.

The sound of the fight had died. The cabin windows were frosted glass, an expensive commodity that meant Asami couldn’t see more than indistinct blurs moving beyond. Every footstep made her chest tighten. She wished she had a knife. She wished she had Mako at her side, but he was somewhere below with a hole straight through his stomach. Even if he hadn’t already bled out, if the seeds of infection hadn’t taken root, he couldn’t help her. She was well and truly on her own.

A noise outside the cabin had Asami jumping to her feet. She grabbed the first thing to hand before she registered what it was. Knocking. The door opened slowly.   
“Asami?” called a voice. The captain entered cautiously, spotting Asami by the table. “Are you really going to beat my head in with a compass?”  
Asami set the brass device back down with shaking hands, but moved to the far side of the table. She needed something solid between her and this...this...whatever this was. Her saviour? Her new captor? Pirates were not exactly famous for being philanthropists, for all this one might posture as such.

The captain removed her hat, tossing it at the table. Her hair was short, pulled back in a wolf tail. Sweat and contact had rubbed her forehead clear of paint, revealing dark skin. Her host was Water Tribe.   
“The crew has been dealt with.” The pirate announced, as though unconscious of Asami’s scrutiny. She unbuckled the belt of pistols, laying that beside her hat. Asami glanced down. They were close. Very close. The pirate didn’t notice her eyeing the guns as she disarmed.

It was when she shrugged off the heavy coat Asami made her move. Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly missed the grip entirely, aiming the pistol between the pirate’s sapphire eyes. She seemed remarkably unconcerned, folding the jacket over her arm.   
“That’s really not necessary.” She told her, and Asami wanted to laugh. Or throw up.   
“It feels pretty necessary to me! What, you stopped Zolt from...you were just saving me for yourself?”  
It was hard to tell under the paint but the pirate looked genuinely insulted. “Well it isn’t happening!”  
“Asami.” The captain held up her free hand in a conciliatory gesture, “I’m not...Asami, you need to calm down.”  
Asami pulled back the hammer.   
“I think I’m pretty calm for someone who’s nearly been murdered about eight times before breakfast, thanks! Now you, explain what the fuck is going in here, why you just _happened_ to turn up in the nick of time and why the hell I’m shut up alone in your cabin and _why you are undressing!”_  
“I...what?” The captain was lost for words. “Look just...that trigger is very sensitive, ok? So, _please_ , just...”  
“Stop trying to distract me!” Asami yelled, jabbing the gun at her. “I’m not some...”  
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space. The captain barely blinked as the lead ball shot past her ear, close enough to feel the flight, and embedded itself in the cabin wall. Asami went white.  
“I did say they were sensitive.” The captain said conversationally. “Cabbage Corp. Shitty mechanisms, the lot of them.”

The cabin door swung open, a young woman sprinting in. At first glance Asami thought it was the same one who had escorted her from the ship but no. This one was older, with shorter hair and an axe in her hand. She took a split second to take in the tableau; Asami holding the gun, the new hole in the wall, but the captain spoke before she could act.  
“Stand down, Jinora.” Her voice didn’t waver. She didn’t sound angry, or scared. “Nothing to worry about. I dropped one of my pistols and it discharged.”  
The universe should have had some kind of reaction to a lie of such a magnitude. Jinora looked from her captain to the gun that had apparently dropped and bounced into Asami’s hands.   
“If you say so.” Jinora sounded extremely unconvinced. She stuck the axe back through the loop in her belt all the same. “Better watch out for that.” She said, staring straight at Asami. “Unexplained gunfire puts us all on edge.”   
“Duly noted. Uh, if you could go below and see how Kya is doing with...what’s your companion’s name?” She turned to Asami, still holding the fired weapon.   
“M-mako.”  
“Mako. Jinora, if you would? Thank you.”  
The crew member left, with a last suspicious glance Asami’s way.

“You lied to her. Why did you lie? Why did...why...”  
“Asami, please. Breathe. You’re panicking.”  
“ _Of course I’m fucking panicking!_ ”  
“Look, I’m not crossing this table, ok?” The captain dumped her jacket on the table and pulled out a chair, sitting on the far side from Asami. She raised her empty hands again. “I’m staying over here.”  
Asami laid down the gun. It was useless without more shot and powder anyway.   
“Thank you. Now please, let me explain. I only removed my coat because I thought you might need it.”  
“I knew...!... wait, what?”  
That hadn’t been what Asami had been expecting.  
“You look cold.” The captain said simply. Kindly. “You’re shaking. You’ve gone through hell. I was trying, and evidently failing miserably, to put you at your ease. It was between this,” she gestured at the coat. “And the blankets from my bed. Given how terribly the coat got misunderstood I imagine you’d have nailed my head to the mast if I’d tried to give you those.”  
“...Oh.”

Asami pulled the coat towards her and stopped. Her hands. Oh spirits, her _hands_. They were caked with Mako’s blood.  
“Don’t worry about that,” the captain said, as if she could read her mind. “There’s been plenty of blood on that jacket already, from a few dozen donors. I’ll fetch some water.”

The coat was heavy and soft, and it smelled of salt and cordite. It was too broad for Asami’s slender frame and a little short in the sleeve but there was something reassuring in the smell and the weight and the warmth of it. At the very least it helped reassure her that the captain was real, flesh and blood, instead of some kind of spectre. The captain set down a copper basin, folding the maps out of the way. She dipped a rag in, wiping at her own face to remove the war paint. The pair performed their ablutions in silence.

Asami gave up trying to get the blood out from around and under her nails, finally looking back up at her host. She looked younger than Asami had expected, weather-beaten but more kindly-looking than any notorious pirate had any right to be. Now clad in just her white, long sleeved shirt and ark trousers she hardly looked like the terror of the high seas. Her eyes looked much bluer in contrast with her natural skin. The captain looked up, mistaking the expression on Asami’s face.  
“Are you injured? Our main sawbones is with your boyfriend right now, but...”  
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Asami replied at once, with surprising force. “ _Or_ fiancé. _Or_ husband. He’s my bodyguard. He’s my friend.” Asami paused and added, almost as an afterthought. “And I’m not hurt. It’s just been one _bad_ day.”  
One of the captain’s eyebrows had risen ever so slightly at her announcement.

“Anyway.” The captain broke the awkward silence that had settled in the cabin. “If it makes you feel better to have me at gunpoint can I at least request you use the cherry handled pistol? Third from the buckle.” Asami’s gaze flicked down, spotting the weapon in question. She could see her company’s crest stamped into the metal. “Yes, that’s it. For one thing there’s something that just feels right about being threatened by a Sato armed with a Future Industries weapon, and for another the trigger mechanism is a sight more reliable. If you’re going to kill me I’d prefer you did it on purpose.”

The gun was calling to Asami. She itched to have a weapon, feel the trigger beneath her finger, know she had something, anything to make a stand with. But something stayed her hand.  
“I’m safe?” She asked. “Aboard your ship, I mean?”  
“My hand to the spirits.” The captain said solemnly. “Neither I, nor any of my crew will lay as much as a finger on you without your express permission.”  
Asami swallowed. _Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid! She’s a pirate, a damn pirate, no matter if she dresses it up in pretty words and pretty eyes and pretty promises..._  
She took the weapon, but tucked it in her belt. The weight was a reassurance. The way the captain smiled at her made her feel like she’d passed some sort of test.

“Now that you’re not about to splatter my brain over my cabin wall I think I owe you a few answers.” The captain swung her legs up, folding them like a child at school as she leant back in her chair. “The reason I was here to save you was that I was here to try and finally kill your father. The universe has a sense of humour, it would seem. Still,” The captain mused. “Thwarting him and saving you, that’s not what I’d call a bad day by any stretch. And alongside that ship, a good prize on any day, we even got the gold he gave those bastards for the job.”  
“Gold...” Asami began, but she stopped. Of course. The money her father had given her, supposedly to purchase the vines. She’d paid the price on her own head. She pulled the captain’s coat a little tighter round her. “So. What happens now?”

 

Asami stuck close to the captain’s heels on the gangplank. The pistol she’d taken was a reassuring weight at her hip, even if she knew she didn’t need it. They had left none of Zolt’s men alive.

The ship was surprisingly active, despite the slaughter. The crew of the _Ravaa_ had come aboard and were busy mopping up the carnage, quite literally in some cases. The foredeck was splattered with crimson, and even glancing at it had Asami’s stomach heave. She’d seen decks like that before. Or at least once before. Korra’s blood had seeped into the planks, forever staining the wood. Asami’s stomach lurched at the memory. She’d broken her promise to Korra, not that she’d had a choice. The whip crack and the screams would have been heard by any vessel a mile off.

Asami was brought back to reality as something _crunched_ under her foot. She looked down and saw a severed hand that hadn’t quite been cleaned off the surface. It lay palm down, like a lopsided crab, ragged and bloody where it had once attached to an arm. There was a hint of a tattoo at the tattered edge. Asami took a slow, deep breath. And then ran for the rail, throwing up over the side. In between retches she heard the captain’s boots on the deck, the scuff of a kick and a small splash.  
“Sorry about that. I forget it’s not easy, seeing this kind of violence. Or taking part in it.”  
Asami felt something knock against her elbow. She took the copper mug, swilling her mouth out before spitting it over the side. She leaned against the rail, waiting for her stomach to settle.  
“You know, you’re a damn weird pirate.”  
“I take that as a compliment.”

The captain refilled the mug from some unseen flask as she waited for Asami to master herself. The water was cold and clear, and surprisingly fresh compared to the brackish water from Asami’s ship’s water barrels.It was probably exactly what she needed. Asami would have killed for something a little stronger. The captain leaned on the rail beside her, at a respectful distance.  
“You don’t have to do this today, you know. Or at all. Just tell me what you need, I can have it fetched...”  
“I don’t want anyone else’s hands on it,” Asami replied sharply, and then wished she hadn’t, but the captain didn’t look offended.   
“C’mon. If you’re done heaving your guts up we can get this thing over with.”

There was blood on the cabin floor. Drag marks. The crew must have removed the bodies already, before the stink could set in. Mako had fought like a madman; there were chunks taken out of the support beams, the table had been overturned, the luggage scattered. Asami stepped over a toppled chair, looking around the chaos. She dropped to her knees and the captain crossed to her in alarm, but Asami hadn’t collapsed. She was trying to reach something.

Asami pulled the slim wooden box from its hiding place. She opened it, wrapping the familiar cloth round her hand. Asami squeezed the band tight as the captain looked away in what might have been embarrassment at invading such an obviously private moment. She busied herself with righting the furniture.

Asami stowed the band, clutching the box to her chest as she stood. The captain was straining to lift the table, shirtsleeves pushed up to reveal defined forearms. For a moment Asami thought she was wearing bracelets, and then the penny dropped. The bands were scar tissue. She’d been manacled and the iron had bitten into her skin over and over again. Asami had seen it before, so many times. The captain saw her looking and casually pushed her sleeves back down. The look on her face was mild, but her eyes blazed with unspoken challenge. Asami didn’t ask the question. She couldn’t. Was there a brand on her too? Some mark, like a luggage tag, forever proclaiming her as owned?   
“Tell me,” Asami asked quietly, not wanting an answer, “Why is it you seem to hunt my father above all?”  
The captain swallowed audibly.  
 “Asami...” She began, almost hesitantly. “There’s...” She was cut off by the cabin door opening.   
“There you are! Fuck’s sake, do you know how long it took me to find you?”

Jinora scowled at her captain, folding her arms across her saffron tunic.  
“And what, exactly, were you looking for us for?” the captain responded defensively. Jinora’s scowl deepened.   
“You sent me to the infirmary, remember? Checking on Mako? Kya’s all finished. The smart money is on a full recovery, provided he doesn’t try and do sit ups in the near future.”  
Asami blinked. Of all the prognosis she’d expected that wasn’t one of them.  
“But...” She objected weakly. “The bullet...his gut...”  
“Kya’s basically a miracle worker.” Jinora told her. She still seemed a little suspicious of the heiress, but she was far more pleasant now her captain wasn’t being threatened. “You should see how many bullets she’s pulled out of the captain alone. We don’t ever have to buy ammo; we just shake her really hard.”  
The captain seemed set to argue with this, then counted for a moment on her fingers. She shrugged, apparently in acceptance.

“I imagine you wish to see your friend?” The captain asked. “If there’s anything immediately you need just point it out now.”  
“Mako has a picture frame. About this big.” Asami indicated with her hands. “If I could find that...”  
The captain, as a pirate, apparently had a knack for locating the loot. She lifted a box and found the folding frame beneath. There were two pictures inside, sketched in ink. A family of four, and two brothers. Asami held out her hand for it but the captian snatched it away, staring.   
“JINORA!” She yelled, and the crew member reappeared. She shoved the picture towards her. “Look!”  
Jinora glanced at it and then did a double take.  
“I recognise the sharkbrows,” The captain’s voice was a little strained. “The other? Also Fire Navy, going by the clothes.”  
Asami hesitated.  
“Mako isn’t...”  
“I have no special issue with the Fire Navy,” The captain said, irritation and impatience creeping into her voice now. “I certainly have no issue with a man who’d fight an entire crew to try and protect his friend. But this.” She jabbed a finger at the image. “Who. Is. It?”  
“His brother. Lost at sea two years ago.”  
The captain and Jinora shared a look.  
“Find...”  
“Opal.” Jinora finished, darting off once more. The captain was just as quick out the door, leaving Asami to practically chase after her.  
“What’s going on?” she demanded as they climbed back onto the deck. Jinora was already across to the _Ravaa’s Revenge,_ scrambling up the rigging. The captain didn’t even seem to hear her.  
“Oh, what a day, Miss Sato!” She grinned, seeming quite insane. “What a lovely day!”  
Asami clutched the little wooden box tighter and followed in her wake. What other choice did she have?

 

Asami had heard tales of ship’s infirmaries. Dark and stinking, and forever underscored by the moans and screams of wounded men. Like with so many other things the crew of the _Ravaa’s Revenge_ had seemed to miss that memo. The Infirmary was as well lit and airy as it was possible to be on board, with open hatches giving light and a refreshing sea breeze. The floor was clear of sawdust, bloody bandages or severed limbs. Indeed, it seemed rather more pleasant than should be possible. The captain was in conversation with yet another woman. This one was Water tribe, wearing a light version of a traditional tunic instead of the traditional heavy apron of a ship’s doctor. She was older, judging by the grey of her hair, but that seemed to be the only concession she’d made to time. The captain beckoned Asami over.  
“Asami, meet Kya.”  
“Pleasure to meet you,” Asami extended a hand. Kya took it. Her grip was firm, but not painful.  
 “This way.”

Mako was lying in a suspended cot, propped up as much as possible on pillows. He looked paler than usual and a little clammy, but the thick wad of bandages round his bare chest showed no signs of bleeding through. He struggled to cover himself when he saw Asami approaching. Kya slapped his arm.  
“Belay that!” She scolded, throwing the blanket over him. “Honestly, like she’s never seen a torso before! Now if I’d had to cut your britches off you’d...”  
“Kya.” The captain sighed, and the doctor cut off her rant.  
“Lie still, kid.” Kya advised, taking his wrist and absently checking his pulse. “Pain ok?”  
Mako nodded groggily.   
“Holler if you need anything. Aside from that, just rest. Time and tide’ll see you right, just you wait and see.”

Asami took Kya’s place at Mako’s side, squeezing his hand.  
“Idiot.” She chided, but she was smiling. “I thought you were a gonner.”  
“Same.” Whatever Kya had given him had made Mako more than a little dozy.   
“I’m glad you’re not dead.” Asami said. It was a stupid thing to say but it made Mako smile.  
“Me too.”

Asami was painfully aware of the captain stood at her heels like an over attentive guard dog.  
“Could we maybe have a little privacy?”  
“Sorry, but I really want to see this.”  
Asami frowned. _See this? They weren’t a carnival show. Why the hell is she grinning like that?_  
“I don’t...”  
But quick, heavy footsteps were approaching.

The man all but skidded to a halt. He was tall and broad, with short black hair and green eyes. Mako tried to sit up and Asami pushed him down again, looking from him and his open mouth to the newcomer.   
“Bo?” Mako asked weakly. “Is that really...”  
“Bro!” The man all but knocked Asami flying, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Mako’s shoulders to avoid the wound.   
_Bro?!_

The captain was leaning against a wall.  
“How...” Asami began.  
“We pulled a half drowned Fire Navy sailor out of the oggin two years ago. Dried him out, fed him, and he’s been one of my most loyal sailors ever since.” She gave Asami a grin like sunlight. “I told you, Asami. Not a bad day by any stretch. I mean...GAH!”  
Bolin had broken away from his brother and picked the captain up in a bone-crushing hug.  
“You found him! You finally found him!”  
“Bo...I...breathing...”  
“Oops!”   
He put the wheezing captain back on the deck, turning to Asami.  
“And you brought him!” He raised his arms and the captain cleared her throat. “Oh yeah, sorry. But thank you!”  
“It’s, uh, you’re welcome?” Asami offered, realising exactly why he’d backed off. “Um. You can hug me. If you want. Just...”  
Her boots left the wooden boards.  
“Thank you, thank you thank you! You’re awesome!”  


Asami couldn’t sleep that night. Her head was spinning, and not just from the perhaps excessive amount of rum she’d drunk at dinner. In the space of a single day her entire world had been turned on its head. Again. Her father had tried to have her killed, she’d fallen in with pirates and Mako...well, Mako wasn’t alone in the world anymore. Somewhere below Bolin had strung his hammock on the next set of hooks to Mako’s infirmary cot, watching over his wounded older brother. Asami herself had been given the captain’s berth, her protests waved dismissively away. She was wrapped in her own blankets, but the modicum of the familiar wasn’t enough to outweigh the unfamiliar. The sounds of creaking timber and the night watch at work were jarring, even the sea seemed to lap against the hull differently. Asami curled on herself, trying to get comfortable, trying to convince herself everything was ok. It wasn’t. _Dad wants me dead._ Her shaking hand found the wooden box under her pillows, pulling out the wristband. She had nothing. No one. Asami had never felt so small in all her life as she lay there in the bed of a pirate captain, trying not to cry too loudly in case the crew heard. She held the band in both hands, pulled tight to her chest. _Korra. Wherever you are, whatever form you are, I miss you. I need you now, more than ever._

In the main cabin the captain sat in a chair in the darkness, a fur wrap barely round her shoulders. She stared at the new hole Asami had shot in her wall, trying to pretend all she could were the normal sounds of her ship in the night as she took another swig of rum. Her jaw was tense, her eyes dark, her knuckles white on the bottleneck.

The moon climbed into a cloudless sky. The rum bottle emptied. Asami’s sobs quietened. The two ships drifted on through the dark seas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm a bad person. Still, everyone loves Bolin, right? Right?! Erm. Blame Jinora, it's all her fault! Honestly, what is it with this family? Ikki interrupts our finding about Ursa in canon and now Jinora's butting in over whatever the captain had to say. I call that rude. If you want to scream at me you can do it in the comments or on my tumblr. It's spudking there too. If you want to do something other than scream at me that's ok too.


	5. Nightmare and Daydreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami's struggling with her new reality, miles from home and even further from safety.

Waking early was getting to be a bad habit, if bad habits could also be potential lifesavers. Asami was disorientated for a moment, but the worn cloth in her hands helped ground her, remind her. She tucked it back into its hiding place and swung herself out of bed. Her head was spinning a little but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. The rest of reality however was another matter entirely. She got dressed, tucking the pistol into her belt once more. Asami unlocked the door, edging out into the main cabin.

The captain was sat at the table. Well, sort of. Sat didn’t really do it justice. Her chair was tipped onto its back legs, her bare feet resting on the table, her body bent into a distorted U shape. Every time the boat rocked she rocked with it, threatening to topple backwards or to bring all four legs onto the deck, and an empty glass bottle rolled noisily from one side of the room to the other with each movement of the ship. Her hat was over her face, a thick fur pelt draped over her like a blanket, one arm dangling limply at her side. In short it looked supremely uncomfortable. Judging by the snoring coming from under the headgear though she found it perfectly acceptable. Asami was beginning to understand why people said the captain was some kind of demonic hellbeast; no normal person could have possibly slept like that.

Asami didn’t really know the protocol for the situation. Nowhere in the thousands of etiquette lessons she’d suffered through had she learned what was appropriate when in the cabin of the pirate with the blood feud with your would-be murderer of a father. It was a truly shocking oversight on their part.   
“Um, excuse me...” Asami paused. She didn’t know her name. How the hell had she overlooked that? This was ridiculous. She’d been threatened by this woman once and been her...well, guest was probably the best word for it...for an entire day and night by this point. Asami wracked her brain. There must have been a name at some point. That’s how these characters worked, wasn’t it? To announce they were the dread pirate such-and-such von skull smasher, now please soil yourselves and hand over the loot? But the only name that Asami could think of was Ravaa. Well, besides one, but Asami couldn’t even admit that to herself. Ravaa, on the other hand, had potential. The ship was _Ravaa’s Revenge_ after all, and by the scars she had much to avenge. Could that be it? It would have to be an adopted name rather than a birth name but it was possible. A little hubristic perhaps, but it wasn’t like ego would be the worst of a pirate’s crimes.  
“Ravaa?” Asami tried uncertainly. The pirate didn’t even stir.

Asami tried again, a little louder. There was a groan from under the hat. Asami chanced putting a hand on the pirate’s shoulder. She could feel her tense at the touch. She lightened the pressure, her thumb moving of its own accord to stroke gently across the linen covered shoulder. It seemed to do the trick. The pirate, now tentatively labelled Ravaa in Asami’s mind, relaxed a little. Her head lolled to one side, cheek resting against the back of Asami’s hand. She tried to pull her hand away but a faint noise of protest stopped her. It wasn’t a noise she’d ever have thought to associate with the figure in front of her.

Whatever comfort Asami had granted her didn’t seem to last long. Ravaa shifted restlessly, her head moving away from Asami’s hand. There was no mistaking the small noise of distress as she tried to relocate it. Asami hesitated. If there were any boundaries left this must surely cross them but she couldn’t help herself. Slowly, like she was faced with a wild animal, she turned her hand over, positioning it to let Ravaa fall against it once more. She became a little calmer, but whatever it was could not be so easily chased away. Asami traced a cheek with a tentative thumb, and something tightened in the pit of her stomach. In this light, like this, she could almost pretend...Asami snatched her hand away like Ravaa’s cheek was red hot. She moved too fast. Whether it was the sound, the loss of contact, her head dropping against her shoulder, the pirate woke with a start. Her head snapped back, the hat flying off. The motion overbalanced the chair and it toppled over backwards. She rolled with it, springing up into a sort of fighting crouch, barefoot and wild eyed. She stared at Asami and Asami saw no recognition in those blue eyes. There was an agonising moment of hostile incomprehension and then Ravaa’s knees buckled. She sagged to the deck, head bowing.

“I’m sorry.”  
The pirate’s voice was low. Ashamed. As if nightmares were some character flaw. “I didn’t...I should...” She swallowed. Asami offered a hand up. The pirate hesitated, taking a grip on her wrist instead. Asami felt the telltale ridges of scar tissue beneath her hand but she said nothing as she pulled the captain’s surprising weight back upright.  
“Bad dreams?” Asami asked, in a transparent attempt to fill the awkward silence.  
“Something like that.” The pirate rubbed the back of her neck. “Um. Yourself? Did you sleep well? I imagine it’s a little disorientating being aboard.”  
“I’ve had worse. I mean, I’ve had better as well. Depressingly enough yesterday was not, in fact, the worst day of my life.”  
“You have my sympathies. And the promise that I will endeavour to prevent any attempts to take the title while you are under my protection.”  
_Is that where I am?_ Asami wondered. The pirate seemed to read her mind.  
“You’re on my ship, Miss Sato, which makes you my responsibility until you chose to part with us, like it or not.” The pirate paused, wetting her lips. “I have...”  
“Cap’n!”  
“Oh for fuck’s...!” The captain seethed, turning to face the sailor who had just entered the cabin. “Yes, Jinora?”  
“Thought you might want to know we’ve sighted two navy ships. They’re coming straight at us.”  
That got her attention. She pulled on her boots, hurrying out onto the deck. With no better option Asami followed.

The captain strode to the bow, taking a telescope from Jinora and squinting towards the horizon. Two ships were indeed approaching out of the early morning sun.  Both bore the colours of the Fire Nation Navy.  
“What’s orders, captain?” Jinora asked. “We don’t want to have to fire on the navy, but if they make us...”  
“Then they won’t think twice.”  
“We could run up the Sato flag on the other ship?” Jinora suggested, and wilted in the face of the stare.  
“I’ll be turning on a spit in Hell before I fly under that flag, got it?!” The captain chewed her lip, studying the approaching vessels. “They’re off course. Weren’t due through here for a good week or more. And the heading...ain’t no routes that way.” Something clicked in her head. “Damn it all!” She spun on her heel. “Rouse the crew!”  
The crew member nearest ran for the alarm bell, hauling on the rope. The clang was loud enough to be heard in the very depths of the vessel. The captain was still shouting orders. “Sharpshooters to the rigging and ready the guns! Not a shot til I say! They’ve come for a fight and by the spirits I’ll give them one.” She slammed the telescope shut. “That thrice-cursed bastard! I should have known! I should have...” she brought both fists down on the rail.  
“Cap’n?”  
“This is Sato’s doing.”

Jinora turned on Asami with an expression of vindicated anger and the captain waved impatiently.  
“Not that one! Hiroshi. I’d bet my ship on it.”  
“My father?” Asami wasn’t following. The captain turned on her, and the rage in her eyes made her step back.  
“He flogged the girl you loved almost to death and had her hung from the fucking bowsprit, for the crime of touching you!” She snarled. “Of course he wouldn’t hand your murderers a fortune for killing you! This way he cleans his own mess, and keeps his money. Sounds like your father to me.”

A young boy came running across the deck, carrying the captain’s armaments. She threw the belt of pistols across her shoulder, cinching the sword belt about her waist.  
“Thanks, Meelo. Now take Miss Sato below.”  
“Like hell!” Asami objected. “I can fight! And if I brought this danger on you...”  
“I do not have the time or inclination to explain my orders, Miss Sato. Now get below and keep your head down. You can yell at me if we all survive this.”  
The polite, affable pirate seemed to have vanished. Asami backed down. Meelo offered her his arm.  
“This way, beautiful woman!”  
Asami didn’t take the arm but let herself be led away from the oncoming battle. She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away, but the captain was staring out to sea.  

“Chickenshit.” Jinora said, eyeing the approaching vessels. The captain pretended not to hear her. “You’re a chickenshit coward, you know that?”  
“Aye. How many guns, do you reckon?”  
“Too many. If we survive this do you think you’ll be able to loot yourself a spine?”  
“Every time I try you interrupt.” The captain growled. “Think they’ll try to parley?”  
The canon ball nearly took Jinora’s head off, barely missing the mast as it sailed past.  
“I’m thinking probably not.”  
“Looks that way. Right then. HOIST THE COLOURS! READY AND FIRE!”

 

Down below Asami was fuming. Meelo had led her to Mako, which was probably a better way to wait out the battle than in the captain’s cabin. Asami wouldn’t have been able to promise that she wouldn’t have trashed it in her fury at being sent away like an irritating child. And, on the subject of irritating children, Meelo had taken an empty hammock and was watching her.  
“Shouldn’t you be up there?” Asami questioned. “Or with a gun crew or something?”  
Most ships had a whole host of young boys on the crew. She’d expected him to be a powder monkey, but Meelo shook his head.  
“That’s what I keep saying, but _apparently_ I’m too young. Cap’n promised dad she’d keep me out of the fighting. It’s not fair! Ikki and Jinora get to fight, and they’re _girls_!”  
The sound of the canon nearly cut off the end of Meelo’s sentence, but there was less noise than Asami had expected. It didn’t bode well that Ravaa had such limited firepower compared to the navy craft.  
“The bravest person I ever knew was a girl.” Asami told him, partly in an attempt to distract herself. “Your captain is a girl. Girls can fight plenty well.”  
Meelo just pouted.

 

The captain roared in triumph as chainshot took down the main mast on one of the attacking vessels. The air was thick with smoke and speeding lead as the ships drew close. _Ravaa_ ’s guns were trained on the deck, firing to cripple the opposing ships. Their enemy was less considerate.

 

There was a commotion, and three sailors appeared in the doorway, two carrying the injured third. Kya was keeping pace behind them. The side of his face was obscured by blood but Asami didn’t see any more than that. She pulled her knees closer to her chest. _This wasn’t right, none of this was right!_ She should have been up there, not cowering down here. She tried not to imagine seeing the captain stumble through the doorway, shot to hell. The captain. _Wait._ She shook Mako awake.  
“Wuzgoinon?” He mumbled. “’sami?”  
“Did you talk to the captain at all?”  
“Wha...uh, no.” Mako blinked, bleary eyed. “Why?”  
“How did you know? About Korra?”  
“Huh? Oh. Uh. Drunk crewmember. After I got hired. I got half a lie from your father, half the truth from the sailor, and all the confirmation I could need after finding out about you and Miska. Why?”  
Asami sat back, staring into nothing.  
“No reason.”

 

The _Ravaa_ slid past the crippled ship, using it as a shield from its companion’s canon. They hadn’t had time to ready the starboard guns and could only blast away with rifles and pistols. _Ravaa_ responded in kind, sending naval sharpshooters tumbling from their posts in the rigging like broken-necked gulls. One brave soul attempted to lead the boarding charge. He took the captain’s bullet between his eyes, falling into the sea. Others were more fortunate, but it was in vain. They were outmatched.  


The guns had fallen silent. The queue of wounded was no longer being added to. And, perhaps most definitively, Meelo had run off. Mako had drifted off once again, hardly surprising given his brush with death only the previous morning. Asami paused. It had only been a day ago. A very, very long day.

The ship was buzzing with activity. Damage was being repaired, debris cleared away and blood mopped up. Asami was a little surprised to see the two navy ships still very much afloat to their stern. So much for Miss Rei’s ‘no survivors’ theory.

The person Asami was looking for was sat near the prow, with the three siblings sat close by. One sleeve of her previously white shirt was now crimson. One of the three, the girl who had escorted her from her father’s ship, presumably Ikki, was fussing over it. The captain was smiling all the same. Meelo said something Asami didn’t catch, but she heard the laugh in response. It stopped Asami in her tracks. It was a nice laugh. Genuine, and unbridled. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would stop people in their tracks. Unless, of course, that person had heard it before.

Asami felt like she’d plunged into an Arctic sea. She was barely aware of the ship around her. All she could see was that smile. Those eyes. That face. It turned towards her and the smile slipped a few teeth. She disentangled herself from Ikki, standing up. Asami’s ears were full of white noise as she sleepwalked towards the pirate, meeting her in the middle of the deck. She reached up with trembling fingers, taking the collar of the pirate’s shirt. The captain dropped her gaze. She curled her fingers round Asami’s own, pulling the cloth aside. The Sato Cog was still seared into her skin. Asami’s heart was hammering in her chest. She let go of the material, tracing her fingertips across the pirate’s jaw, her cheek. The captain had to fight not to lean into the touch. Her eyes were watering. Asami swallowed hard, finally finding her voice.  
“Is it really you?”  
The rest of the crew had come to a standstill around them. Asami couldn’t have cared less. The captain looked up at last, blue eyes sparkling, that crooked grin spreading across her face.  
 “And there was me thinking you said that you could never forget me.” Korra replied. Asami wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to pull Korra into her arms and hold her so tight that all the dark spirits in the world couldn’t tear them apart again. So she did.

Korra was broader than she’d been as a slave. Real food and healthy sea air had added muscle to her frame, but the feel of the arms around her was as familiar as the back of Asami’s hand. She smelled of salt now, and blood and gunfire, but somewhere beneath it all she could smell that same comforting scent that still clung to the armband. Asami buried her face in Korra’s shoulder as her hands stroked up and down her back. Asami lifted her head, giving Korra a watery eyed smile. Asami cupped Korra’s chin, pulling her into a kiss three years overdue. Asami’s cheeks were wet, Korra’s laps chapped, but neither cared. Jinora and Ikki squealed in delight, Bolin and Opal hollered their approval and Meelo gave a grandiose speech cursing his bad luck for being beaten to the gorgeous women by his captain. The rest of the crew hastily made themselves scarce. The two were completely oblivious of all of it. As far as they were concerned the rest of the world had melted away.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back together at long last! Don't worry though, the adventure is far from over. What did you think? loved it? Hated it? Wanted to watch me struggle through writing "the pirate/captain" for another chapter? Let me know! 
> 
>  
> 
> I'm thinking about doing a prompts series because they help get through writer's block. If you've got any suggestions leave them in a comment or send me a message at spudking.tumblr.com


	6. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami is a little too inquisitive for her own happiness sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long! This chapter really didn't seem to want to be written. If it makes it better just imagine that they were making out on the deck for the entire time between updates.

It was a shame people needed to breathe. Asami’s head was spinning in a less than romantic fashion when she finally broke off the kiss, leaning against Korra.   
“I think your crew are enjoying the show,” she muttered, and Korra laughed again. Asami hadn’t realised how badly she’d missed that laugh. Korra pulled away, taking her hand instead.   
“Come on.” She smiled. “I have a pretty nice cabin here, you know.”  
“Is that so?”

Asami collapsed onto the little bench seat under a porthole, pulling Korra down beside her. It wasn’t a sofa like they’d had at the Sato estate, barely more than thin cushions on planks, but Asami didn’t care. She ran her fingers through Korra’s short hair, struggling a little with the tangles.  
“I am loving the new look. Your clothes, your _hair_.”  
“What, you don’t think the manacles suited me?” Korra asked, in mock offense. Asami’s jaw dropped. She shoved her and Korra pulled Asami with her as she flopped backwards onto the bench. She looked up into a face framed by raven locks.  
“You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”  
Asami rolled her eyes. “Flatterer. I look like hell.”  
Korra just shook her head, pushing herself up on her elbows to kiss Asami again.  
“Never. You’re too full of light for that. It shines right out of you.”

There was a hesitancy Asami would never have expected, on both of their parts. A nervousness, almost a shyness. It was like they were two bumbling teens all over again, so afraid of going too fast, of leaving a single tell-tale mark, of toppling off the tightrope into disaster. _But the disaster had already happened_.  Asami tried to push the thoughts from her mind as she reacquainted herself with Korra’s neck and those little sighs she made. It was hard to ignore it though, hard to forget that she was sucking at a pulse point that should have ceased to have a pulse. She didn’t want to care.  She wanted to let go, to lose herself entirely, but her mind wouldn’t quieten. Her fingers fumbled at Korra’s buttons, opening her shirt. Asami’s hand slid across abs that might as well have been sculpted as Korra’s hands moved a little tentatively down from the small of Asami’s back. Asami’s fingers skittered over an unfamiliar scar on Korra’s ribcage and paused there, as if drawn to the site by a lodestone. It wasn’t until Korra’s warm hand placed itself on top of her own that she realised her hands were shaking.  
“You’ll find I have a few more of them than I used to,” Korra said softly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. Asami wasn’t sure to feel relieved or nervous to see a shadow of the same hesitation she felt in Korra’s eyes. “Asami, it’s ok. It has been a while since, well, _us_.” Korra couldn’t help smiling as she said the word. “There’s no need to rush any of this. I’m not going anywhere.”  
“You swear?”  
“By everything in my power.” Korra said solemnly. “I’ll be right here, Asami. As long as I can, and as long as you’ll have me.”  
“How about forever? Is forever good?”  
“Sounds perfect.”  
Asami shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, lying across her rather than straddling, resting her head on Korra’s shoulder. She traced the crease of Korra’s abs with her fingertips.  
“And what about your shirt? Can your shirt stay like that forever too?” She asked, and she felt as much as heard the rumble of laughter. Korra wrapped her arms round Asami’s waist, kissing her on the cheek.   
“Say the word and I’ll never wear shirts again.”

The moment was entirely ruined when Asami hand moved down from Korra’s bicep to her forearm, finding a damp, torn sleeve. She pulled away, earning herself a noise of protest from Korra.  
“Your arm...”  
“It’s fine.”   
“Like hell it is!” Asami reached for her arm but Korra moved it away. “Let me see, Korra!”  
Korra offered her the limb extremely reluctantly, pouting slightly. Asami tried not to let herself be distracted by just how adorable she looked doing it. _Adorable. Not normally a description of pirates_. Asami knelt on the little seat as Korra sat up. She took Korra’s arm by the elbow, carefully undoing the worn cuff and rolling it back. Truthfully the cut was not terrible. But it was deep, and still slowly bleeding. “You got this. You sent me to the fucking infirmary, and you got this, and just...” Asami’s voice wobbled. “You’ve bled enough for me, Kor. You...you...” The word stuck in Asami’s throat. She didn’t dare to say it. Didn’t dare tug at that cosmic thread, just in case the universe finally noticed that Korra had slipped through the cracks. Because she had. Hadn’t she?

Asami couldn’t shake the thought, even as Korra tried to reassure her, to recapture the moment. She knew what had happened. Asami hadn’t watched but she had heard, had seen the aftermath, had had her father’s reassurances that her ‘attacker’ had been dealt with. They had been days from land by ship, never mind swimming, when the body had slipped from the ropes and been lost to the sea. It had been a drawn out, cruel death. It just didn’t seem to have stuck.   
 “And what the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?!”

Kya strode in with no heed as to what she might be interrupting. Korra tried to hide her arm behind her like a child caught stealing sweets but it was too little, too late.

Asami stayed where she was as Kya all but dragged Korra upright, lecturing her about wound care and the risk of infection onboard ship, making some dark reference to the last time Korra had ignored an injury. Asami didn’t even want to think about that. Korra had just slumped into the chair at the table, laying out her arm for the doctor to fix.   
“And don’t even get me started on having to hear about _this_ ,” Kya jerked a thumb at Asami as she cleaned the wound, “from Ikki.”  
Korra shrugged one handed, taking a quick slug of rum. Kya didn’t even warn her as she pushed the needle through her skin but Korra didn’t flinch. Asami watched in fascinated horror as the needle broke through Korra’s pretty skin again and again, failing to elicit as much as an indrawn breath. Kya finished, wrapping the limb in clean linen. The captain made to rise but Kya put a hand on her shoulder.  
“Asami. Could you run down to the galley and get us three bowls of whatever they’ve got? Tell them Korra sent you. And if that doesn’t work, tell them I sent you.”  
Asami got the distinct impression it wasn’t a request she should say no to.  

Kya shut the door behind Asami, pulling a chair over to Korra’s side. Korra’s gaze dropped to her lap.   
“She’s going to ask, isn’t she?” Korra said quietly. Kya snorted.  
“You really thought she wouldn’t? The only surprise is that it she hasn’t asked you already.”  
“We weren’t...” Korra coloured slightly. “We weren’t exactly talking.”  
“Ah,” Kya grinned. “Young love. Look, kid. She’s too smart for a lie, and you owe her the truth.”  
“All I had to do was _laugh_ and she knew me,” Korra said ruefully.  
“Exactly. She’ll understand why you did it. She will!” Kya added a little more insistently as Korra drooped further. “Ok. Healer hat is back on. You look like something we scraped off the hull, not someone having a joyous reunion with their lady love. When did you last eat? Sleep?”  
“Kya, I...uh...” Korra paused. That shouldn’t have been a tough question. Kya’s scrutiny was steady, non judgemental as the wheels slowly turned in Korra’s head. “I ate...last night. Dinner. I ate with Asami.”  
“Did you? Or did you take two bites to show it wasn’t poisoned, drink dinner and sleep in your chair?”  
Korra stayed silent. Kya took it as confirmation. She sighed.   
“And you didn’t sleep the night before we found her because you had too many murder visions in your head, like a kid before some really twisted birthday.”  
Korra couldn’t even begin to deny that.  
“So. Two shite nights’ sleep, hardly a bite of food, two battles, and the incredibly stressful and emotionally exhausting reunion with your dearly beloved. Ok. No captaining for you today.”  
Korra groaned.  
“ _Kya_...”  
“I’m not kidding, captain cranky. You know what we’re coming up on, we can’t afford for you to be anything less than shipshape, got it?”  
“Aye.” Korra sighed, frustrated but not at Kya. “I got it.”

Kya got up, crossing to the door.   
“Get out of that bloody thing before you upset her any further. And Korra, if you need something to help you sleep...”  
“I won’t.”  
Kya might have told her to take the day off but there was something distinctly commanding in Korra’s voice. Or at least that hinted of the stubbornness of a mule. The healer knew better than to argue. She stepped outside, shutting the door behind her and walked straight into Asami.   
“Gah!”   
Stew slopped onto the deck as Asami just managed to keep her hold on the bowls. Kya took the precarious third bowl from her.   
“My apologies. Are you alright?”  
“Of course. I’m just a little on edge. It’s been quite the eventful day.”  
“I can’t even begin to imagine. Shall we?” Kya gestured towards the cabin.

They set the bowls down on the table, careful not to put them too close to the edge in case the gentle roll of the ship tipped them off. By the sounds of it Korra was in the bed area, most likely changing out of her bloodied shirt. Kya looked from the bullet hole to the closed door and then to Asami.  
“You look like someone with something on their mind.”  
Asami’s mouth opened just a little, then snapped closed.  
“I am perfectly...”  
“You are not. Whatever rubbish you were about to claim, you are certainly not. And she can see it. I love that idiot, Miss Sato. Not like you do, I’m sure. I love her as if she were family. If whatever’s vexing you is going to hurt her I want, need, to know.”  
Asami hesitated.  
“You all knew. About her, us.”  
It wasn’t a question but Kya nodded anyway. “And you didn’t tell me. You didn’t even use her name.”  
Kya didn’t bat an eyelid at the accusatory tone.  
“Not my place to. Either she needed to tell you or you needed to work it out. Anything less would have cheapened it, if you could have even believed it without seeing her for her with your own two eyes.”  
“And you know about what happened to her?”  
That actually caused a reaction. Kya’s face darkened slightly and her nod was more curt.  
“You know how she faked it?”

The silence lasted entirely too long. Kya stared at Asami with the kind of pained concentration and disapproval normally associated with trying to decipher foreign script, written with poor handwriting. There was judgement in those eyes and Asami bristled at it but she didn’t know what she was being judged for, never mind how to defend herself.  
“Korra has told me so much about you.” Kya said at last. “So many wonderful things. I would never have expected you to have so little faith in her.”  
The words felt like a slap.   
“I have faith!” Asami said hotly but Kya looked unconvinced.   
“Is that so? To me it looks like you have very little. Not in your own eyes, not in your love.”  
“Will you stop saying that? Why on earth would you think that?!”  
“Because you can’t.” Kya’s voice was quiet and intense. “How can you? If you really think that Korra would have tricked you, would have deceived you into thinking she was going to die, then you can’t think that much of her or of her feelings for you.”  
“There’s no way she could have survived what they did!” Asami’s voice shook. Kya just looked at her and Asami faltered. “She couldn’t. Nobody could.” Asami wasn’t sure Kya had blinked at all since this conversation had begun. “You can’t...you’re not telling me she actually...”  
“I’m telling you that there was no deception.” Kya said evenly, before Asami had to say it. “No trick. No double cross. No plan. She fully and wholeheartedly expected to die at your father’s hands. As for what came after, well, that is a matter for you and Korra. Not me. So I think she’s the one you should be speaking to right now, not some stranger. Just...” Kya hesitated, if only for a moment. “Hear her out. I think you owe each other that much.”  


Asami knocked on the door. She heard the slow, heavy movements behind it. A splash of water. Then the bolt drew back.

She’d changed. She was wearing a blue sleeveless tunic now, showing off powerful arms and a band of tattooed ink round her upper bicep, a permanent version of the cloth that Asami had treasured since Korra’s supposed passing.   
“I was going to ask if you wanted it back, but...” Asami trailed off, the joke falling flat. She had too much in her head for jokes. Too many words, too many thoughts. The first one slipped out, the first question, the first accusation. “You didn’t tell me.”  
Korra bowed her head as Asami went on.  
“You didn’t come for me. We could have been together, Korra! We could have had the last three years together. Or at the very least I could have known you were out here, alive and free, and I could have waited for you, for us!”  
“It’s complicated.” Korra began heavily. It was the wrong thing to say.  
“You want to talk about complicated, Korra?” Asami snapped. “Try living with the man who murdered the love of your fucking life and have him expect you to be grateful for it! And now you have the brass balls to look me in the eye and just expect me to take ‘it’s complicated’ as an explanation as to why you...as to why you gave up on us?”  
“I...” Korra had gone pale. “I didn’t...I never...It’s not like that, I swear!”  
Asami didn’t look convinced. There was something in her gaze. A silent plea for something that could explain three years of abandonment.

“I wanted to.” Korra said wretchedly. “You have to believe me. I wanted to come for you, I wanted it more than anything, I missed you like someone had carved a hole in my chest.” Korra made as if to reach out for Asami but didn’t dare. She let her hand drop back to her side. “Everything is so messed up, Asami. What I’ve done...” She bit her lip, looking away again. “What I’ve become. I’ve made such choices...you can’t understand.”  
Asami’s hand bridged the gap that Korra had not dared to.   
“Not if you won’t tell me. Please. Even if...just tell me.” Asami was a proud woman. She’d never begged for much.    
“You might want to sit down.” Korra said at last.

They took their seats, not on opposite sides of the table but close by one another, turned in towards the other. Korra drummed her fingers on the tabletop, running her tongue around her teeth.   
“I guess the only place to really start it is the beginning.” She said. Asami nodded encouragingly. “And this, well. This all started that day on the ship. It started the day I died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't even let them be happy for a chapter, could I? At least they're together again, right? And Asami is finally going to find out what happened all those years ago. 
> 
> If you want to yell at me do it in the comments or on tumblr, I'm spudking over there as well. Given the last chapter's reception I'm currently trying to dig myself out of a six month art block to give you guys a horribly amateur drawing of our favourite pirate captain, but I think if I'd waited to finish that you'd be keelhauling me.


	7. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami finally finds out what happened aboard her father's ship, and it's even worse and weirder than she could ever have imagined.

_Three years ago. The Sato Star._

 

Korra’s legs had given way. She couldn’t tell how long ago. There was no clock but the crack of the whip, the searing pain. She had lost count before her knees had buckled. The ropes were all that were holding her up now, her shoulders screaming somewhere beneath the almost all consuming pain of her bloody back. She’d managed not to scream for the first part but her resolve had broken. Now her throat was too raw to make noise. She’d run out of tears. She’d run out of hope. Soon, but not soon enough, she would run out of flesh to flay, out of blood to bleed.

They let her down before that could happen. Korra crumpled like her bones had been removed along with the rope. The blurred image of the mast was replaced with red stained planks. The boot caught her in the side with a fresh stab of pain, flipping her onto her agonising back. She managed a whimper before it was cut off by the patent leather shoe pressing down on her throat. She pushed feebly against it with one weak arm but she couldn’t hope to budge it. Something pressed against her hand, pushing it down to the deck with no apparent effort. A cane. The foot was removed and Hiroshi Sato swam into Korra’s narrowing field of vision. She tried to turn away and he forced her head back with the cane. Korra swallowed, trying to wet her ruined throat.  
“...’f I have to die...lookin’ at a Sat...’Sami’s prettier...”  
The words were barely intelligible but by the flash of fury and the way Hiroshi struck her across the face with the polished wood Korra guessed he’d understood enough. Her laugh was little more than a gurgle as the crew dragged her towards the prow, a rough patch of deck tearing at her knee as she was towed across it, held up by her arms. What did it matter? What did it any of it matter anymore?

They dropped her unceremoniously by the bow, pulling her arms together behind her back and binding them, and in Korra’s pain-hazed mind she realised that they wouldn’t have done that if they were just going to dump her over the side. And then they started on her ankles.  
“I think you’ve still got at least a few days left in you,” came Hiroshi’s voice as she was lifted like a sack of flour. “Plenty of time to reflect on what a mistake you made when you forced yourself on _my_ daughter.”  
“Fuck you.” The words came out in a bubble of blood. As last words go they weren’t exactly awe-inspiring.

They suspended Korra by her arms and ankles like a nightmare figurehead, bloody and broken. She couldn’t even lift her head from her chest.

Time lost meaning. She could barely feel the gulls that flapped and pecked at her, the spray of the sea, the bite of the rope. It could have been an eternity when the ropes gave in the night, sending Korra tumbling into the sea, still bound hand and foot. She managed a feeble kick twice before the water closed over her head.  

There should have been fear. There should have been panic. She should have struggled. There was nothing. There was acceptance. She didn’t have the strength left for anything else. She was dimly aware of the water getting darker around her, vision blurred by stinging salt and fatigue, could feel it growing colder. Or maybe that was her, her warmth leaching away into the water. The salt burned her back, the need to breathe burned her lungs, the pressure threatening to crack her fragile chest. Korra lifted her head towards the rapidly retreating surface. _Asami,_ she said, in a silent rush of silver bubbles. _Asami._ And then she breathed in.

 

 When Korra opened her eyes she was more surprised that they opened at all than by what she saw. There was an ocean of stars above her, a sky of brilliant diamonds. She was floating on her back on a gentle sea, drifting slowly through the warm water. Somewhere at the back of her mind Korra was aware that she should probably be concerned but she couldn’t work out why that would be. The water was supporting her effortlessly. It didn’t so much as sting her back. _Why would it..._ Korra tried to put her feet down and was relieved to find sand beneath her toes. It was hard to hold onto the feeling, like trying to hold smoke.

The water was waist deep here. It was calm on the surface but there was a gentle yet insistent tug of the current below, pulling her towards the dark shore. It wasn’t just in the water. The pull was in her mind, in her heart. She wanted to go to the shore. She took a step forward and felt another tug. One that pulled against the tide.  It was a disquieting feeling. She needed to go to the shore, didn’t she? She had to. There was nothing behind her. Nothing but the dark sea. She took another step forward. It took no effort to move on. Standing still was hard; that gentle tug was deceptively strong, but something made Korra fight the current, made her dig her heels into the soft sand underfoot.  _Asami._

The word floated to the surface of her mind, sending ripples out to bounce off the inside of her skull. Korra’s fists clenched at her sides. The water was trying to drag her now as she turned against the tide. The dark sea ran as far as the horizon. It was wild out here, like the churning of the edge of the world, a storm that would wreck ships never mind swimmers. Korra squared her shoulders. It didn’t occur to her to take a deep breath. If it had she might have noticed she hadn’t been breathing to start with.

Trying to wade out was like trying to drag an anchor. It didn’t matter how long she strained; she couldn’t break away from the beach. If anything she was getting closer to the shore.

Korra’s legs buckled. They seemed to be doing that a lot at the moment. She tumbled, dragged by the current, managing to find her feet again several yards further towards the beach, facing it once more. It was calling to her. The sands offered rest, respite. _Surely just a moment...NO!_ Korra gritted her teeth. She knew, in the same way that she knew a dropped rock would fall to earth, that once she reached dry land she would truly be done for. She couldn’t. She had to get back.  
_Korra._  
The voice echoed round her brain without as much as touching her ears. She could feel the presence behind her through some ancient sense of self preservation, even with no self left to preserve. She didn’t dare to turn round.  
_You are even stronger than I thought._  
She didn’t feel strong right then. She felt exhausted, tired to her very bones.  
_Of course you do. Time moves differently here. If I told you how long you had been in this sea you would not believe me._  
“A few hours?” Korra guessed, wondering if she’d accidentally spoken aloud. Wondering if that even mattered out here.  
_Far, far longer. Your spirit is the strongest I have seen in millennia. Most would have surrendered to the tide long ago._  
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ogle someone’s spirit without permission?” Korra asked. There was a gentle laugh in response.

 _You seem quite determined to return.  
_ “Of course I am!” Korra snapped. “I’m not supposed to be dead yet, ok? I was supposed to die in fifty years, a free woman, after saving my damn people! I was supposed to go quietly and peacefully in the arms of my wife! I wasn’t supposed to be...chewed up and spat out before I even turned twenty!” Korra turned on her heel to address the mystery figure, fists clenched, shoulders squared. Her jaw dropped, hands uncurling. “Oh. Oh wow.”

The being before her was not unlike a great white kite, with iridescent blue markings and a single sapphire eye. The spirit glowed in the darkness.  
“Ravaa...”  
_Yes._  
“...huh. Um.” Korra swallowed and inclined her head. “I meant no disrespect.”  
_Oh yes you did._ The voice sounded like it was smiling. _But I took none. On this day, in this place, Vaatu himself would not hold it against you._  
“Thank you. Um. This might be...”  
_I cannot simply send you back. Some laws even I cannot break._  
Korra tried not to show her disappointment. Ravaa’s tendrils encircled her, anchoring her in the sea. She hadn’t even noticed she’d been being pulled to shore again. The touch was gentle, warm, a many armed hug that soothed to the very soul, taking all of her weight without apparent effort.  
_These things you desire. I cannot give them to you. But I can give you something._  
Korra almost dared to hope.  
_The world is out of balance. I have been absent too long. If you are willing I can give you the power to go back, to try right the wrongs of the world. To protect your people._  
“That...that is quite the offer.”  
_It does not come without a price._ Ravaa cautioned her. _Nothing in this, or any, world ever does. Do not think that this is a burden you must shoulder, for it is a burden as much as a gift. If you wish to rest by all means, go. I will bear you no ill will. You have already endured much in your short years. What I offer may only bring you more pain._

“So of course I took the offer.” Korra rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She’d looked away from Asami early on the tale, unable to hold her gaze. She’d stopped several times, biting back words, catching a tremor in her voice. “As to the actual coming back...” She shrugged helplessly. “The next thing I knew I was waking up on a much more real beach hacking up seawater. Well, ‘knew’ might be an overstatement.” Korra took another swig, almost a gulp, from the rum bottle. She’d been wetting her throat throughout the story and Asami could hardly blame her. “I was in a bad way when I washed up. Even the gulls wouldn’t touch me.”

Asami sat there in silence. Then she swallowed thickly and dragged the cuff of her sleeve across her eyes.  
“I thought you were dead when they strung you up.”    
“I wished I was.” Korra said frankly. She hesitated. “How long was I on the bowsprit?”  
Asami toyed with the idea of lying. She opted for the truth. What was one more terrible thing to add to the pile?  
“Nearly four days.”  
Korra sat back a little, silently repeating her. She shivered as if caught in a sudden draught and took another drink.  
“They flayed you, suspended you and then drowned you.” Asami was speaking to herself now. “You died. And then, what, got quite literally spirited back here with some...divine mission?”  
“More or less.” Korra shrugged. “Divine isn’t quite the right word but it’s the right general idea. Your language isn’t exactly set up for this kind of subject.”  
 Asami wasn’t really concerned with semantics at this point. She reached out wordlessly and Korra handed her the rum. “You didn’t think I called this ship _Ravaa’s Revenge_ for nothing, did you?”  
“I thought it was just a good name for a pirate ship. Pretentious but good...” Asami said a little distantly. She tried to take a gulp and spluttered as it burned her throat. “Damn! What the hell kind of crap rum is this?” She checked the bottle. “Oh come on, aren’t Cabbage Corp firearms dangerous enough?”  
Korra raised an eyebrow at the concept of ‘dangerous’ being a bad thing for a weapon but Asami was on a roll. “I’ve heard of rum putting hairs on your chest but this would put hair on your eyeballs! This stuff would make a hogmonkey go blind!”  
“Look, I loot!” Korra said defensively. “I don’t control what other people buy, I just take it off them.”  
“Well rob someone with taste next time!” Asami made a face. “Guh. It’d be just about manageable if you had some ice or something, just to take the edge off it.”

Korra had a strange smile on her face as she got up, fetching two tankards and setting them by the long forgotten stew before stepping out of the cabin. She was only gone a minute at most before she returned, carrying a small metal bucket which she offered to Asami.  
“Ice, Miss Sato?”  
Asami stared. A dozen rough ice cubes stared back.  
“How...”  
“I’m a bloody weird pirate, Asami.” Korra told her with a grin a few watts short of her normal dazzling one. “And if you think that’s weird you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Asami looked sceptically from the impossible alive woman to the almost equally impossible ice cubes. Her tolerance for weird had ratcheted up considerably in the last few hours alone.  
“You really think there’s anything left on this ship that can shock me?”

“What the hell is going on with this ship?!”

Asami was getting a headache, and she couldn’t blame it entirely on the bad rum. It was a lot more tolerable chilled though. Korra was grinning, a slightly smug grin that Asami wasn’t sure whether she wanted to wipe off her face or kiss. If it reached all the way then the choice would have been obvious. Nothing was making any sense today. She pinched herself surreptitiously and was relieved to feel the sting. She wasn’t dreaming. This was reality that was making zero sense. How reassuring.

Ravaa’s Revenge was a big ship. Way too big for the number of sailors aboard; there was enough bunk space for a small town but what they had could barely even be called a skeleton crew. A skeleton crew would have been an appropriate appellation, given the nature of her captain. But no, the crew were flesh and blood, as far as Asami could tell at least. Despite the lack of hands however the ship was in a better state than even her father’s flagship; clean, tidy and ordered. The decks gleamed; there was no trace of saltwater stickiness or grime. The crew were dressed in a motley of colours and styles, an eclectic mix of nationalities. Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe, Fire Nation, Korra seemed to have collected her crew from all corners of the world. And that wasn’t even a drop in the ocean of oddness. A tour of the gun decks revealed a frankly pitiful number of cannons and the powder store was similarly pathetic, all but devoid of fuses to compound the problem. Cannon balls, on the other hand, were abundant, in a whole range of sizes that had no relation to the cannons available. The same perplexing imbalance was true of the rations. They had barely any fuel or oil for lamps and fires, scarcely enough water for even a short voyage, but enough food to cross the ocean and back without stinting. Assuming of it course that it would keep. Asami had voiced her concerns, but all she’d got in return was that cocky smile. It was infuriating. Maddening. And, as Asami would never have admitted out loud, really hot. She’d had the privilege of seeing this side of Korra before, of being the one safe place for Korra to be self assured, to be confident and in control, but this was something else. Out here, on this ship, Korra was the unquestioned master. Out here she looked like she could control the sea itself.

Asami still had questions. So many, many questions, and the oddities of the ship were barely of fleeting interest in comparison. Now would have been the perfect time to ask but Asami couldn’t bring herself to break the comfortable silence that had settled between them. Whatever mental defences Korra had put up to get through recounting her own death were coming down again as they stood together on the sterncastle, bathed in the light of the setting sun and a little giddy on shitty rum. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the way Korra smiled, but Asami found she was no longer concerned with any potential audience. Korra tasted a little like rum but Asami couldn’t have cared less.

Up in the rigging Jinora looked down and smiled. And then scrambled away before Korra could catch her watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When in a tense situation deflect with inexplicable ice cubes! 
> 
> So...thoughts? Love it? Hate it? Think I made Hiroshi too horrific? Think Korra should really slow down on the drinking? Let me know.
> 
> Feel free to come bug me at spudking.tumblr.com


	8. Becalmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It can be hard to pick up where you left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd we're back! After...27 days without any internet at home I no longer have to live in a soulless carrel in my library.

Asami woke to a dream. She was pressed up against Korra, with those wonderful arms wrapped around her. The thought of waking up from it was nothing short of torture. It took her more than a moment to remember that this was not a dream, that this was glorious, glorious reality. She could hear the steady beat of Korra’s heart from where her ear was pressed up against Korra’s chest. After a short while she could no longer resist the strange fancy. She turned awkwardly in the hanging bed, pulling herself up to wake Korra with a kiss. Korra responded before her eyes were even open.  
“Morning,” Asami said softly, and Korra just smiled up at her, stroking her knuckle down the curve of Asami’s cheek.

“I almost forgot what you looked like when you’re like this.” Korra said, and Asami frowned. “In the morning. Before you put your makeup on. Before you put on whatever face it is you have to be today.” Her hand paused on Asami’s cheek. “This you. I’d almost forget she existed. Is that terrible?”  
“I thought I was dreaming.” Asami confessed. “I’ve had so many dreams where you came back...It’s hard to believe my eyes.”   
Korra looked almost guilty.   
“What can I do to convince those foolish eyes then? Would telling them they’re really pretty eyes help?”  
“Don’t leave me again?”   
There was a note of pleading in Asami’s joking tone. Korra pulled her closer in the small cot, the motion rocking them slightly.  
“I don’t intend to.”

It was a long time before they accepted that they couldn’t actually stay there all day, no matter how much they wanted to. It was the third request for Korra that finally made them cave, and even then it was Asami who had to be the one to actually get out of the bed and all but tow Korra out behind her. It was only when they were halfway to the door that Korra had pointed out that Asami was wearing nothing but her nightshirt. Asami’s own clothes were still mainly aboard the other ship. What with one thing and another there just hadn’t been a good opportunity to fetch them.

Korra managed to scrounge up some clean clothes that would fit Asami, more or less, and left her to change. She took her own little bundle of clothes with her. Asami wanted to ask her to stay but somehow she couldn’t find the words. The sound of the door shutting seemed very loud indeed. Asami just didn’t understand it. On some levels they were still as close now as they ever had been, the night spent curled up in Korra’s arms was testament enough to that level of their relationship being very much still alive. It was the rest that Korra seemed to have left behind on the Last Shore. _No,_ Asami mentally chided herself, _that’s not fair. You’re not there yet either._

It wasn’t that she missed the sex. Ok, that was a lie. She very much missed the sex. But it wasn’t just sex in general she missed, it was _their_ sex. And it was far from the only thing she wanted back in her life. Asami must have been born to be a pirate and a plunderer because she wanted it all. She wanted everything. She wanted it to be like it had been before her father had caught them. She wanted to close the distance that had silently opened between them but she just didn’t know how. It had been three years, after all. She’d changed, she knew it, and Korra had to. Spirits only knew, quite literally, what she had been through and Asami rather doubted coming back from the dead wouldn’t have left a mark on Korra’s admittedly already troubled psyche. It was a delicate situation they were in. The only consolation was that they were in it together.

Asami found Korra out on the deck, one arm outstretched. The sea hawk landed before Asami could question what she was doing. Korra took the message from the proffered talon and passed the bird off to Bolin, who headed for the galley.   
“Good news?” Asami asked. Korra nodded.  
“Everything is on schedule,” she said, tucking the scrap into her pocket.   
“Everything, huh?” Asami asked as Korra went to her cabin, tearing off a piece of parchment and scribbling a quick reply. She left it to dry, adjusting the positions of three pins on the spread maps. One of them was their vessel. The other two Asami had no idea about. Korra saw her looking.   
“This,” She indicated one. “My second ship. We’ll need it for what’s to come.”  
“You already have my father’s ship. You need three?”  
“Three, four, a hundred. The more the better. We’ll take the _Sul_ too, if we can, put it to better, more honest use. Like piracy.”  
“You’re assembling quite the fleet.” Asami said, and there was something in Korra’s smile that made her pause. “You’re assembling a fleet?”  
“Well that would be ridiculous,” Korra said, in a tone that didn’t match her words at all. “And this,” she continued, as if the tangent had not been touched on. “This is the prize. The whole reason we’re in these waters in the first place. The _Spirit of Sul._ We should have it by week’s end. It’s uh...” she hesitated. “It’s one of your father’s ships,” she said sheepishly. “I do seem to make a habit of raiding them.”  
“I can’t imagine why,” Asami rolled her eyes. Korra gave a grin and a shrug.

Korra managed to summon Meelo, sending him to the hawk’s nest _(“Don’t you mean crow’s nest?” Asami had asked, only to receive a look of confusion from Korra and the response; “No. Definitely hawk. Why would we keep the hawks in the crow’s nest? That’s just ornithologically  confusing.”)_ with the return message.

“Are you going to insist on sending me below decks again, when it comes to it?” Asami asked. Korra looked at her.  
“That’s not a question, is it?”  
Asami grinned,   
“You’re learning, Korra.” She grew serious again. “No. It’s not a question. I’m not dead weight, I don’t need protecting...that wasn’t an attack,” She added, seeing Korra gearing up to defend her past actions. “What you’ve done for me, with Zolt, well I can’t thank you enough. And you were right to do what you did on the _Sato Star_ , much as I wish you hadn’t been. But with the last raid, with the Fire Navy...”  
“That was a threefold decision.” Korra cut her off. “And not one made thinking you were some delicate flower who couldn’t hold her own in a melee. I know you better than that.”

Korra held up one finger.  
“First and foremost. You’re supposed to be dead.”  
Asami didn’t need the reminder.  
“I realise that’s a little hypocritical of me to say, but nobody cares if I’m dead or alive. Apart from you, I hope.” Korra amended. She didn’t give Asami a chance to respond. “Given your presumably deceased status if you were spotted aboard we’d have a bit of an issue on our hands. Either we’d have had to kill any potential witnesses or we’d be hunted by every ship in the navy and every privateer seeking your father’s gold and your ‘rescue’.”  
Asami had gone a little pale at the nonchalant way Korra discussed killing so many people.   
“I figured the best route would be just to try prevent you being spotted at all. Without you on the deck you’d only be seen if we were boarded and taken, and should that have happened we’d have far greater problems to deal with.”  
“Uh-huh.” Asami agreed weakly.   
“Reason two. Ravaa returned me to my body more than a little... _different_...to how I died. And I didn’t think that was the best day to show you exactly what that meant without any context for it, and without you knowing it was me under it all.”  
“ok...” Asami had no idea exactly what Korra meant by that but it sounded fairly logical. She had mentioned something about unearthly power after all. “And three?”  
Korra blushed a little.   
“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Not so soon after finding you.” She admitted. “But I’m not dumb enough to think I can keep you out of any fight you want to be part of. From what I saw of you through my scope you move like a cutlass lass. So,” She offered Asami her arm. “To the armoury, Miss Sato?”  
“I thought you’d never ask.”

Asami chose for herself a rather beautiful cutlass that suited her build and reach, an assortment of knives and another pistol. She felt rather piratical indeed as she fitted the belts and scabbards.   
“Well?” She asked Korra, doing a little twirl in front of her, like she was wearing some new ball dress. Korra nodded in approval.   
“You look...wow. Very fine indeed.” She then added with a chuckle, “Imagine how you’d look if the clothes actually fitted.”   
Asami pouted.    
“We’ll get you some new gear when we return to the islands.” Korra promised. “Something that lives up to your sartorial standards.”  
“The islands?” Asami frowned. Then it hit her. “Oh my...you have an island hideout?!” She squeaked. Korra waggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Where? It can’t be anywhere near Fire Nation waters or the navy would have driven you out, surely?”  
“It’s way out.” Korra said, and there was a slightly faraway look in her eyes, not dissimilar to how she’d used to look recounting stories of ice lodges and penguin sledding, “Far beyond the reach of any navy. A place where no one else can even sail. It’s safe out there.”  
“Out where?”  
“Beyond the wild water.”  
Asami looked at Korra, looking for the twinkle that would confirm she was kidding. It wasn’t there.   
“I thought that place was a myth? An old sailor’s story?”  
Korra shrugged.  
“Asami, I _am_ an old sailor’s story.”  
Asami couldn’t really argue with that. The undead pirate on a quest for vengeance and justice did seem to have something of a point.

“Come on then. You’ve got the sword.” Korra nodded to the weapon in question. “Let’s see if you can use it.”

 

Asami had expected to be facing Korra herself, not a girl several years her junior. It was something of a disappointment, if Asami was honest. Jinora saw her expression. She didn’t say anything, just readied herself. Asami took a stance, feeling Korra’s eyes on her. She’d bested pirates, for crying out loud. And Mako, frequently. What was Korra thinking, pairing her up with a kid?  
“En garde.”  
It was over in six movements. Asami stared at the blade at her throat.  
“You have to say ‘yield’, Asami,” Korra called over. Asami did so, with extreme reluctance. There was no hint of a smirk as Jinora lowered her weapon. It almost made things worse.  
“You’re good,” She said approvingly. Asami’s brain threw a gear.  
“I...what? You just...”  
“Exactly. You’re good. Fire Navy trained?” Jinora guessed and Asami nodded mutely. “It shows. Watch your stance, Fire Nation tend to over-commit on the attack, leaves them extremely vulnerable to the counter. As you saw.”  
“Uh...thanks?”  
“No problem. Again?”

“You knew I’d get my ass kicked,” Asami complained, sitting down on the steps to the quarterdeck next to Korra.  The captain didn’t bother to deny it. She hadn’t known it for certain but if she’d been a betting woman she’d have put it all on Jinora. In reality, with Asami’s back up against the wall, it might be a different story but training was training. “So, what’s her story then? No kid gets that good just because.”  
“She was raised with an exceptional respect for life. She was taught that killing was to be avoided at any cost.”  
“And that turned her into a demon with a sword?” Asami asked doubtfully. “Most pacifists aren’t exactly one-woman armies.”  
“I never said ‘pacifist.’” Korra grinned. “That value on life extends to her own. She doesn’t like blood to be spilt if it can be prevented. That means having to be able to take the other bastard down fast, and take ‘em down hard enough that they don’t want to get up again.”  
Asami was less amused than Korra seemed to be.   
“I suppose Meelo could kick my ass just as easily?” She asked, only a little sarcastically.   
Korra made a face.   
“We avoid training with Meelo. He puts the ‘f’ in ‘artillery’.”  
It took Asami a moment to get the joke.  
“Oh ha bloody ha.”  
“I’m serious. There’s a reason I keep that kid in the crow’s nest as much as possible,” Korra added with a shudder. “I’d rather camp out on a rotting elephant whale carcass than share an enclosed space with that kid after eating beans. I _have_ camped out on a rotting whale carcass rather than share an enclosed space with him. It damn near strips paint!”

Asami left Korra to her captaining that afternoon, taking an overdue trip below decks to check on Mako. She really should have updated him about everything that had happened in the last few days. She wasn’t really sure how on earth she was going to explain to him that Korra was alive. She could still barely believe it herself.

 

“Uh-oh.”  
“And hello to you too, Bolin,” Korra set down the sextant. “To what do I owe the horror, sorry, pleasure?”  
“Someone’s cranky,” Bolin flopped into the adjacent chair. It was a solid chair but Bolin was a big guy and the chair creaked in protest . “Trouble in paradise?”  
“We’re in Fire Nation waters. Remind me how that’s paradise again?”   
“Someone’s _really_ cranky.”  
Korra didn’t reply. Maybe Bolin would get the message that way.   
“Things alright between you and Asami?”  
Apparently not.  
“They’re...” The lie stuck in Korra’s throat. “It’s complicated.”  
“No shit.”  
“What the hell am I supposed to tell her, Bo? How am I supposed to tell her?”  
Bolin shrugged.  
“I have no idea.”  
“Gee, thanks.” Korra scowled. “Really glad you came by. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”  
“But,” Bolin continued pointedly, “You’ll figure it out. You will!” He said insistently as Korra looked set to argue. “Because it’s obvious to anyone with even a single eye or ear that you’re still both crazy about each other.”  
He put a reassuring hand on Korra’s shoulder.  
“You’ll figure it out. I mean, you’ve managed to cheat death itself. This should be no trouble at all.”  
“Yeah,” Korra agreed glumly. “It _should_ be.”

 

“...huh.” Mako managed. “Well that’s...that’s... _huh_.” He paused for a moment to try and gather his thoughts. “So...what exactly is the problem here?”  
Asami didn’t even know how to begin on explaining that.   
“I mean, you got her back. Isn’t everything else an acceptable price to pay?”  
Asami might not have been able to articulate her point very well but she was certain Mako had missed it.   
“Oh, wait. Is it...” He looked furtively around the sickbay, as if expecting to see Korra eavesdropping from inside a barrel or something. “Is it Miska?”  
It hadn’t been until he’d brought her up.   
“I don’t think it counts as cheating if the other person is presumed dead, Asami,” Mako tried to console her. He seemed to realise it was having the opposite effect and gave up on that tack. “Look, Asami. You love her?”  
Asami nodded.  
“You want to be with her?”  
She nodded more emphatically.  
“What’s stopping that?”  
“She’s not telling me everything. She’s holding back something, something...big.”  
“And you are?”  
Typical Mako. Blunt, yet it cut deep. He sighed. “I’m not good at this, Asami. I’m not exactly the golden boy of relationships. You’re both keeping secrets, and maybe hers are a little more...otherworldly? extreme?...than yours, but I’d bet my life you’re doing it for the same reasons. To not hurt the other. Look...Is there anything you can think of that would make you not want to be with her?”  
Asami didn’t need to think about it.   
“No.”  
“Then make it happen.”  
“It’s not that simple-!”  
Mako raised one shark-shaped eyebrow and repeated, more emphatically,  
“Make. It. Happen.”

 

Asami knocked on the cabin door and entered. Korra was bustling about the table, turning to squint at the sideboard every so often. Asami followed her gaze. There was a battered book there, propped up and wedged open on a picture of a banqueting table, the type they’d had at the mansion.  Even as Asami watched Korra lit another couple of mismatched candles, adding to the warm glow.   
“You didn’t tell me I needed to dress for dinner.”  
Korra jumped and Asami flinched, but luckily the candles remained in their holders. They were actual candles, not the usual safety lanterns as well.  
“I know it isn’t quite...” Korra began apologetically, blushing a little, but Asami cut her off.   
“It looks wonderful.”  
Korra went a little redder as Asami came over, surveying the table. No two pieces of cutlery seemed to have come from the same set. The plates were tin, coated in chipped enamel and Asami had never seen a tankard on any high society dining table. Asami saw Korra’s eyes flick to the book, saw the slight shift so that she was stood between Asami and the diagram. Asami pretended not to notice. “What’s the occasion?”  
“Us?” Korra suggested, a little embarrassed. “I know things have been, well, not quite right between us...”   
Asami nodded before she could stop herself but, far from looking upset, Korra’s shoulders relaxed slightly. She continued, “And I know it’s going to be a while before we’re how we were. You can’t just pick up a life like...like an old hat. But I thought this might just be a good way to start, to work our way back. If it’s stupid just...”  
Korra didn’t get to finish her sentence because Asami had kissed her.   
“It’s wonderful,” she repeated.

She wanted more. Of course she did. They both did. But this at least was the start, or perhaps the rebirth, of something. Something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully not too much of an anti-climax after so long. The next chapter is already underway! 
> 
> Love it, hate it? Yell at me here or at spudking on tumblr.


	9. Indulgence and Divulgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions Asami doesn't need answers to.

Some part of Asami was well aware that spending every night cuddled up with Korra was possibly not conducive to sorting out the tangled mess of their current, extraordinarily ill-defined relationship, but she’d rather have eaten hot coals before she’d even admit that to herself. Besides, in the space of a few short days she’d as good as lost her father, her home, her friends, and all her worldly possessions bar the meagre ones she’d brought for the journey. It was hardly a crime to enjoy the only comfort the world had left her. Korra, for her part, seemed totally happy with the arrangement, going on her reluctance to leave the cot in the mornings. Korra had admittedly never been particularly good at mornings anyway but this went deeper than a simple disinclination to face the day.

Asami climbed back onto the deck after visiting Mako in the sickbay. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she would never have believed he’d been shot through. Kya really was a miracle worker. Just how she’d done it though was yet another secret. Asami leaned against the rails, breathing in the fresh sea air. This ship was swimming with secrets, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t brought her own along.   
“I’d say ‘yuan for your thoughts’,” came a voice from above her, “but I think the piratical thing to do would be to just to wave a cutlass and demand them.”   
Asami looked up to see a young woman in green climbing down from the rigging. She landed lightly on the deck.  
“Opal.” She introduced herself, offering a hand. Asami took it.   
“Asami.”

Asami cast a critical eye over the newcomer. She was young. Younger than her, certainly, though far from the youngest aboard. Green eyes, tan skin, short dark hair.  
“You’re about to do the holy Jin routine, aren’t you?” Opal asked, to Asami’s confusion.  She sounded amused. “You know? ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’”  
The thought had crossed Asami’s mind. Opal smiled. “Simply put, Korra. She came by my home last year, and I saw...purpose. You know? I saw a chance to do something that mattered.”  
Asami did. “Plus,” Opal’s smile widened. “She brought Bolin.”  
“You two are together?”  
Opal nodded proudly.   
“That’s sweet.” Asami said honestly. “People finding each other, making a life like that.”  
“You’re one to talk!” Opal laughed. “You and the captain? We’re all rooting for you two. Especially the oldest hands, the ones who’ve been with Korra from the start. I mean, Kya, by the hells, she’d probably stitch you a wedding gown if you asked.”  
“Kya? Really?” Asami asked, surprised, recalling the less than amicable discussion she’d had with Kya regarding Korra’s resurrection.   
“She’s very protective of Korra,” Opal conceded. “But she’s hardly alone in that. You’ve got crew here pulled from shipwrecks or liberated from chains. Saving lives tends to breed loyalty.”  
“I can imagine,” Asami said, half to herself.

Asami found Korra sat cross legged on the floor of her cabin, incense burning in a little dish before her. She didn’t want to interrupt so she just sat down opposite and waited. After a short while Korra opened her eyes, smiling to see her. Asami smiled back, but it faltered.   
“I’ve been thinking.”  
“I hear that’s bad for you.”  
Asami nodded ruefully. “Bloody awful. And yet here we are. Look, I know everything is going to take time. I understand. But, well, you stayed away. You came back but you didn’t come back to me. I need to know why, Korra.”  
Korra sighed heavily.   
“You’re not going to like the answer.”  
“Almost certainly not.” Asami agreed. “But it can hardly be worse than what I have imagined. And I can’t see a course back to us as _us_ until I know why.”  
“Very well.” Korra pursed her lips, thinking. “I thought it was for the best. Given our respective circumstances.”  
Asami gritted her teeth. Korra got to her feet.  
“That’s not even close to being an answer, Korra!” Asami tried not to snap. Korra stopped dead. “Just please, be honest with me. Was there someone else or something?”  
Korra’s shoulders slumped. It was answer enough.

“I never loved any of them. Never felt anything close to how I felt about you. ”  
“That’s your apology?” Asami said bitterly. Korra turned back and Asami was stunned to see that her eyes were watering, like she was on the verge of tears.  
“Are you honestly going to sit there and tell me there were no others for you?”  
“That’s different!” Asami snapped. “I thought you were dead! You, you _knew_ I was alive! You knew where I was!”  
“Aye,” Korra conceded. Her voice wobbled. “Let’s just leave it at that, yeah? Let’s just it there. I’m a piece of shit, and I don’t deserve you, and you should probably hate me forever.”  
Asami wanted to. She wanted to rage. But she could hear the note of desperation in Korra’s voice and it was worrying her because she’d seen this scene before. Only last time there had been bars between them.

The realisation hit her like a cannonball. Korra wasn’t telling her everything, once again, to protect her. She got to her feet and Korra flinched back as if expecting a blow. Instead Asami took her hands softly.  
“Do you really think it’ll be easier like this?” She asked. “Letting me believe a lie, letting me hate you?”  
Korra wouldn’t meet her eyes.   
“Let it be, Asami. Please.”  
“Sorry, not going to happen. So just tell me.” She let go of one hand, tilting Korra’s chin up. “Why didn’t you come back?”  
“I did.”

“I did come back, Asami. As soon as I was strong enough. It was so hard at the beginning, nothing made sense, nothing felt right, my mind was...” Korra took a long, slow breath. “Coming back changed me. Part of the toll of resurrection apparently; I’ve seen what mortals should not see, I’ve passed through the veil the wrong way and it _did_ things to me. It broke me. In so many ways, it broke me. A lot of things I used to be certain of got lost somehow and I tried to hold onto the memories but I couldn’t be sure of anything. So when I got there, when I came for you...” She stopped. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known and I know that. I know that now.”  
“I’m glad whatever happened wasn’t my fault but can you please tell me what it was?” Asami said, with more patience than she felt. _Did Korra see me with Miska? No, that hadn’t started happening until after...until after..._ Asami’s hands went to her mouth. She didn’t need Korra to tell her. They’d been very discrete about the whole thing for fear of causing a political maelstrom but it was the only possible reason that made sense, that would explain Korra’s absence. “Iroh. You found out about Iroh.”  
Korra forced a smile.  
“I didn’t want to spoil the engagement party.”

“I should have said something. I should have...I should have burst in with a cutlass in each hand and swept you away, and I would have. I would have. But you were happy.” Somehow Korra managed to not make it sound like a betrayal. “You were happy and he could give you anything you could have ever wanted, while I was a hacked up chunk of human gristle that couldn’t even really call my mind my own. He was a fairy tale prince and I was an owl bear. So I went back to my ship and I did the duty and I tried to convince myself that I really had been deluded. That what I’d thought we’d had was a fantasy I’d cooked up.” She snorted derisively. “As if you’re that easy to forget.”

 _We could have been together. All this time. We could have been together._ The mantra bounced around Asami’s brain. Korra just looked sad. Old and tired and sad.   
“Can you blame me?” She asked quietly. “Was I wrong?”   
Asami couldn’t find her voice for a moment.  
“I was happy,” she admitted, and Korra’s jaw clenched just for a moment. “But because I thought I was going to be leaving my father’s grasp. I thought I was going to get away from the man who _murdered_ the woman I loved; of course I was fucking happy about that! I liked Iroh fine enough. We...understood each other. But I never loved him. Not like I love you.”  
The present tense was not lost on Korra.   
“I don’t blame you, Korra. How could I? What happened wasn’t either of our faults. The universe dealt us a couple of shitty hands and we did what we could.”  
“You’re taking this awfully well.” Korra observed. “I drank myself stupid for a month after I found out about you two.”  
Asami shrugged.   
“My dad tried to kill me and my girlfriend came back from the dead. There’s very little left that can shock me at this point.”  
Korra laughed despite herself, but stopped when Asami pointed a warning finger at her.  
“No more secrets like that, Korra, ok? No protecting my feelings, no leaving me in the dark for my own good.” She saw the hesitation and amended. “When it comes to us, at least. I’m not sure what non-disclosure agreements you might have signed coming back from the beyond and I don’t think I want to.”  
The revision seemed to relax Korra.  
“I promise.”  
Asami wrapped her arms round her.   
“We’re very broken, you know that, right?”  
“Aye,” Korra said fondly. “But let’s be fair. It wouldn’t be any fun if we weren’t.”

They sighted the supply ship the next day, and it pulled level with them just after midday, joining the little convoy. They drew close and, despite being at full sail, a man swung across from the other ship to theirs, his scarlet cloak billowing out behind him. He landed lightly on the deck and Korra hurried down to meet him.  
“Good to see you, Tenzin.”   
“Likewise,” he said, inclining his tattooed head. He looked up to where Asami was still stood on the sterncastle and raised his eyebrows. “Miss Sato, I presume? Have you...”  
“She knows it’s me.”   
He smiled. “I’m glad. Now, shall we...”  
He was cut off by Meelo jumping, apparently from the rigging though Asami knew that had to be a trick of the light because falling from such a height would surely have hurt them both, onto the man’s head.  
“Dad!”

 _So this is Meelo’s father,_ Asami thought as she descended. He was tall and middle aged, his long cloak preventing her from getting much of an impression of his build. The blue arrow inked onto his skull seemed familiar, though Asami couldn’t remember where from. _How exactly does he know Korra?_ _It has to be from after she died, otherwise I’d know him too. Unless it’s from before she was taken? But then..._  
“We have much to discuss,” Tenzin told Korra, in a way that made Asami suspect she was not going to be a part of the discussion. She stopped on the steps, until Korra glanced up to her.  
“Are you coming?”

Korra leant heavily on the table, adjusting the little pins with Tenzin. Asami had little to contribute; while she’d designed canons she’d not had any experience of ship-to-ship combat, unless you counted being a victim to one of Korra’s raids. She wasn’t surprised to find that they expected stiff resistance but the numbers worried her. Tenzin’s ship, the _Oogie_ had even less firepower than _Ravaa_. They had three ships and barely enough crew or cannon for a single vessel, and they were going up against a convoy apparently guarded by Northern warships. But Korra was quietly confident and Tenzin, apparently sharing in his daughter’s pacifist beliefs, was going on about ways to reduce the human toll of the raid. Korra tapped one piece, representing the _Spirit of Sul_.   
“On here, I promise nothing.”  
Tenzin looked at her disapprovingly but said nothing. Asami looked at the set of Korra’s jaw. Was this what she had meant coming back had changed her? Ruthlessness? It was hardly a surprise. It certainly didn’t explain Korra’s reluctance to discuss it.

“We should reach them tomorrow.” Korra announced, looking up from the charts. “We need to make ready. Asami, could you find Opal or Jinora? Tell them to pass the message along.”  
Asami was more than a little surprised but she went off to give the order.  
“You haven’t quite told her everything then.” Tenzin observed. Korra shook her head.  
“I’m not good at explaining. It’d be easier if I was, so much easier. But I think some things you need to see.”  
“You’re scared.”  
It wasn’t a question. Korra forced a smile as she saw Asami’s figure approaching the frosted glass.   
“Terrified, Tenzin. I’m terrified.”

The next morning Asami kept a respectful distance as Korra meditated in front of the incense burner, her weapons laid out beside her. She opened her eyes, beginning to apply her war paint, and then Asami heard the call. They were within sight of the prize. Korra buckled on her weapons and rose to her feet.   
“Stay close to Jinora,” Korra told Asami, in a no-nonsense tone that might, just, have been tinged with concern. “Watch her back and she’ll watch yours.”    
She pulled Asami into a tight hug. Asami wanted to kiss her but she had a feeling that war paint loses some of its intimidation factor when it has kiss marks in it. They stepped out of the cabin, heading towards the prow. Asami saw two warships, and between them...   
“Korra...is that a slave ship?”  
Korra saw the momentary look of utter betrayal, of horror. And then the cogs turned in Asami’s mind. The extra ships. The food. The infamy of the pirate in front of her.  
“Oh you sly little bugger.” She grinned. “You’ve been liberating them?”  
The smile was all the answer Asami needed.

Korra left Asami amidships, where Jinora soon found her. The girl smiled.  
“It’s ok to be scared, you know.”  
“I’m not...” Asami began to protest but it wasn’t worth it. “No offence, but I wish I was with Korra for this.”  
There was something odd about Jinora’s smile.   
“You really, really don’t.”

They were getting close now, still too far out for cannons, but the ships weren’t even trying to evade them. Nor were they running up flags of surrender. Asami did not have a good feeling about this. Not at all. She wasn’t sure how you would go about springing a trap in the middle of the open ocean but it was what it felt like. She looked sideways at Jinora who nodded.   
“I feel it too.”  
She closed her eyes for a brief moment.   
“Oh crap.”

Asami didn’t have time to question because in front of them the sea had split open, and something impossible reared out of sea. It loomed above them, a great beast of indigo skin, its eyes and mouth glowing with unearthly yellow light. Asami stared in horror as it drew closer. One hand went to the pistol at her belt but Jinora caught her wrist.  
“Save your bullets for those that bleed.”  
“But...!” Asami could barely tear her eyes from the sight but she saw Korra leap down from the sterncastle, running for the foredecks. “Korra!” But Korra didn’t stop and Jinora didn’t release her grip. Korra made it to the prow, staring up at the creature. And then she raised her hands. Asami watched, open mouthed, as the water around the creature began to twist up around it, binding it in place. And then began to glow.   
“What the...”  
Soft gold light encircled the beast, spreading out across it. Before her eyes the beast has remade into golden light. Korra released her hold and it sank back into the waves, only to leap clean across the _Ravaa_ like a giant dolphin, soaking those below with seawater. The reverie was broken by the boom of a cannon and the splash of the ball striking only water.   
“Well, it looks like they know who we are!” Korra yelled from the bows. “Let’s go and say hello!”

Asami turned to Jinora for an explanation. The young woman just shrugged.  
“What did you think she meant when she said Ravaa had granted power?”  
“Not this.” Asami admitted. “This is...this is incredible.”  
“This,” Jinora grinned. “is just the tip of the iceberg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Sorry it took so long, and sorry if that reveal was a bit clunky but I couldn't see any version of Asami, no matter how alternate the universe might be, not demanding an answer to that question PDQ. As always, feel free to yell at me here or on spudking.tumblr.com


	10. Liberation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami finally gets to see exactly what Korra's capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this one took a while! Sorry about that, feel free to yell at me in the comments about it. Hopefully this chapter, and the rather awful, I've-not-picked-up-a-pencil-in-8-months attempt at drawing a suitably piratical Captain Korra will earn me your forgiveness.

 

 _She’s a goddess_ was Asami’s first, rather foolish thought. _I’m in love with a goddess._ _This is...she’s a goddess._

It was an easy conclusion to come to. The _Ravaa_ was running straight and true into the range of two Northern warships, both larger than the _Ravaa,_ bristling with cannon. The other two ships flying Korra’s flag were lagging behind, leaving the flagship unprotected.  It should have been suicide. It would have been suicide, if not for Korra. She was stood atop the bowsprit, and at her command a great wave had risen from the sea, cresting ahead of them like a barricade. Asami could hear the cannons thundering away beyond it but the wave rose and curved to swat the cannonballs from the sky.

“You were asking questions the other day,” Jinora said conversationally, as if the laws of nature were not coming undone in front of Asami’s eyes. “About how we manage with such little firepower?”  
“...yes?”  
Jinora smiled.   
“Like this.”

The _Ravaa_ had no forward-facing guns. There was no angle for them to possibly fire upon the escort ships. And when Korra called out to fire there wasn’t a sound, not a thump, never mind the deafening roar that should have accompanied such a salvo. Instead the cannonballs were silent as they shot out across the waves, following arcs that would have left anyone with even a cursory understanding of physics in complete bewilderment. Asami didn’t know how to respond, until she looked back to the bows in time to see Korra _catch an incoming cannon ball. In. Her. Hand._ She turned and gave Asami a wink, and then hurled it back at the offending ship, the metal ball corkscrewing through the air before smashing into the side.  
“Show-off,” Jinora muttered, rolling her eyes. Asami’s mouth was hanging open.

 The escorts were losing badly, overwhelmed by the silent broadsides that curved in flight, smashing through lower decks. One mast gave way, collapsing.  
“Captain!” Opal yelled down from the fighting top. “They’ve struck colours!”  
Korra brought up a fist. The cannonballs ceased in mid flight, hanging like the world’s heaviest raindrops. And then she let them drop. The wave rose and shit forward, pushing the two vessels apart and clearing a path for _Ravaa_.  
“We can trust them to surrender?” Asami asked. Jinora shrugged.  
“Hopefully. For their sake at least. If they fire on the _Oogie_...” Jinroa trailed off. She didn’t want to think about it. “Korra won’t be happy.” It was an understatement.

The _Ravaa_ was closing fast on the _Sul._ Asami could not dredge up any more surprise when Jinora directed her gaze upwards, to where crewmembers were creating the gale up in the rigging, pushing the ship on. Asami thought she saw Ikki up there but it was hard to tell. Even with the boost however they were not closing fast enough for Korra. As soon as they were close enough for the bullets to start pinging off the deck she was gone, running up the bowsprit, a waterspout rising from the sea to catch her and carry her across to the enemy vessel. She landed high in a fighting top and Asami saw the bodies start to fall.  
“Idiot jumped too soon!” Jinora cursed under her breath, but Korra’s pirates were already springing into action, even as the crew of the _Sul_ closed in on their captain, blasting at the top without thought to their surviving comrades up there. Korra leapt down, water rising over the sides to catch her. Asami saw a body flung skyward by a tendril of water. The wind died, sails going slack at once. A knot of pirates had taken up position to the starboard bow, performing some sort of synchronised movement that Asami did not see the use of. She revised that opinion when the rocks began to rise from the seabed, forming a rough and ready bridge between the two ships.  
“Ready?” Jinora asked. Asami drew her cutlass, feeling the reassuring weight.  
“Hell yes.”

It wasn’t a boarding party. It was siege action. Waterbenders, as Jinora informed her they were called, formed a cover for them as they closed the distance onto the enemy ship, the liquid barrier stopping the bullets dead in their flight.

Korra was lost to view in the melee on the deck, caught up in a beserker rage that had her cutting down anyone who stepped into her range, tendrils of water whipping around her like a private, protective maelstrom. Jinora yelled out and Asami remembered that mid-battle was a terrible time to ogle. She turned in time to parry the blow, the force sending a shockwave down her arm. He leered at her as he tried to force his sword down, their blades locked. Asami just pulled the cherry handled pistol from her belt, pulled back the hammer clumsily with her free hand, and shot him in the thigh. She’d been aiming higher but he collapsed nonetheless. He screamed and slashed wildly, nearly taking out Asami’s legs. Asami brought her cutlass down on his neck.

The fight did not take long. The crew of the _Ravaa_ might have been outnumbered but they were far from outmatched. Asami, beginning to flag, felt someone approaching from behind and wheeled on the spot, cleaving air with her cutlass. Korra ducked out the way, catching her by the wrist. Asami resisted for a split second and then her brain caught up. Korra released her and Asami dropped her arm to her side, shoulders slumping.  
“Glad to see you’re still in one piece.” Korra grinned. She was bloody to the elbows, the paint at her temples and forehead smudged with sweat. “I hope you saved some energy, the real work is going to start soon.”  
Asami looked around the deck. A severed head was rolling from side to side with the motion of the boat. A couple of pirates were watching it with morbid interest.  
“This wasn’t work?”  
“This?” Korra looked around distastefully. “This is just pest control.”

Asami was slightly surprised by how much activity was still going on. The bodies of the _Sul’s_ crew were being stack at one end of the ship by the survivors, under heavy guard. The other ships in Korra’s rapidly expanding fleet were being manoeuvred alongside the _Sul,_ gangplanks being secured, more bridges being raised. Crewmembers crisscrossed the ships purposefully, carrying bundles and boxes from one ship to another. Korra saw Asami’s confusion.  
“That’s the real work. Remember?” Asami just looked blank. “This is a slaver?” Korra prompted. Asami’s hand went to her forehead, leaving a smear of blood. She’d forgotten. Ok, so there had been some monstrous beast the size of a ship that had tried to kill them and Korra and half the crew could apparently make the elements their bitch, but still. She’d forgotten.  Korra hadn’t noticed her distraction, her mind clearly elsewhere.  
“Look, unless you’ve gotten a lot more experience with injuries and illnesses in the last few years I think you’d do most good over on _Oogie._ Find the galley, find Pema. She runs the show.” Korra made an exaggerated shrug, and the blood on her arms slid off and splattered onto the deck, leaving dry stains on her skin. “Do not take this as a ‘get back in the kitchen’ thing. We’ve got four hundred people below decks to take care of. Everyone’s making food, sorting bunk arrangements and clothing or getting ready to deal with the wounded. If one of those sounds a better fit let me know.” Korra paused, taking in Asami’s expression. “Are you ok? Asami...oh, ok...” Korra caught her by the arm as Asami’s knees went, the sword clattering onto the wood. She lowered Asami to the deck, one hand on Asami’s back. She squatted beside her as Asami put her head between her knees and waited for the world to stop going wobbly.

“You ok there?”  
Asami nodded weakly.  
“I think my brain just caught up with the last hour. Magic and slaughter and, well, everything...”  
Korra softened, although it was hard to tell through the warpaint.  
“Sorry, I forget this is new for you.”  
There was a shout for Korra. Korra ignored it. “Do you think you can make it back to my cabin? I can...”  
Asami waved her away.  
“I’ll be fine. I just...” She sighed and then squared her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.” She lifted her chin. “ _Oogie_ ’s galley, right?”  
“Right.”  
“You know I still can’t cook, don’t you?”  
Korra laughed. “I expected nothing less. Don’t worry, I’m sure there’ll be plenty to do. There’s _always_ too much to do.” She added, almost to herself.

Korra helped Asami back up. Asami stooped to pick up her cutlass, wiping it off before sheathing it. There was another, more urgent shout for the captain. Korra raised a hand in acknowledgement.  
“Duty calls.” She said apologetically. “I’ll see you soon.”

Korra hurried off to where Opal was calling for her, talking about manacles and triage and ledgers. Asami waited for Korra to disappear belowdecks, and then went about her own business.

It would have been a lie to pretend she wasn’t relieved to be sent away from the frontline. Asami had seen the slave ships at the dock, of course, but only at a distance. Korra had never discussed her time aboard and Asami had not dared to push; she knew enough about the logistics of them not to want to know the finer details.

The stench hit Korra like a physical blow as they made their way down into the hold. Opal, less used to it, was fighting not to gag. Korra paused at the threshold, letting it wash over her, Opal’s hand on her shoulder a comforting anchor to the here and now. She stepped down into the hold, the glow of the lantern throwing the familiar wolf-paint into sharp relief. She could feel the eyes on her, flickering in the lamplight, wary. There wasn’t enough room in the mass of crushed together bodies for people to back away but they seemed to shrink as much as they could, chains rattling against the wood. The whispers were like a breeze in the dead, fetid, air. Korra could almost taste the fear, the despair, over the stench of sweat, sewage and death. She took a slow breath.  
“I mean you no harm,” She said, in her native tongue, loud enough for it to carry the length of the ship. “I am Korra, of the Southern Tribe. And I have come to set you free.”

It was easy to spot Pema. She was the only person in the galley, and quite possibly the entire ship, that was carrying a baby in a sling on her back. She also all but ran up to Asami and hugged her when the woman entered the galley. She released a rather stunned looking Asami and led her over to one of the workbenches in the bustling room. There were dozens of people in there, the whole place thrummed with activity in a way that was only a notch or two below frantic.  
“It’s so good to finally meet you! Korra’s told me so much about you,” Pema said, as by way of an explanation as to why she’d just almost cracked Asami’s ribs. “And the kids, of course.”  
“The kids...?”  
“Hello again, beautiful woman!” Meelo called across the madness, but his voice was slightly muffled. As if it was full. Pema seemed to have come to the same conclusion.  
“Meelo, if I have to tell you to stop eating the ingredients again I’ll have you scrubbing the bilges! People need those more than you!”  
Asami heard a very quite ‘ _awww_ ’ of disappointment. “Go help your father, now!” Pema sighed. “Honestly, after my four? This,” she gestured around the crowded room, taking in the dozens of people chopping and slicing, the people conjuring fire from their bare hands to heat the great iron cook pots, one of which was already being carried out to the top deck, “is practically a holiday.”

Those that could walk were shuffled over to the _Oogie_ , for water, for food, for clean clothing. Those that couldn’t were carried across to the ship that had been Asami’s, now rechristened as the _Fortune_ for the attentions of the healers. Asami had started at that, and Pema had just laughed and asked how exactly she’d imagined Mako had survived without some less than natural aid.  

Korra took a minute’s breather at the porthole, trying to suck down as much fresh air as she could, trying to will her hands to stop shaking. Kya hurried past, giving her a reassuring pat on the elbow as she went to deal with a gangrenous foot across in their makeshift extended infirmary. Sheets of canvas had been hung from the ceilings to make crude partitions, granting at least a modicum of privacy. Anything was better than those crowded racks down in the hold. Korra clenched her fists, seeing the bands of scarring round her arms flex. She closed her eyes, trying to find her mental balance, but her name was already being called. There was no time for squeamishness, no time to be distracted. Not now. She returned to her bench as the next patient was carried in, his back a bloody mess. Korra rolled a glowing sphere of water around her hand and set to work.

  
 Asami helped Bolin out with one of the pots, the heavy cauldron hanging from a stout pole balanced on their shoulders. A field kitchen had been set up on the _Oogie’s_ deck, the former salves sat about in little knots. They weaved between them, setting down the stewpot. Bolin hefted the empty one in one hand. Aasmi saw Tenzin sat in his cabin at the desk, apparently interviewing the young man in front of him. By the new and not altogether well-fitting clothes and the bandages at his wrists he had to be one of the liberated slaves.  Meelo was there also, energetically scribbling away.  
“Roll call,” Boloin explained, as they headed back for the galley. “Names, homes, families, and a likeness. Helps to know who’s aboard, and it helps at the island too.”

Their next run was over to the _Fortune,_ handing the burden over to Opal and another woman Asami didn’t recognise at the hatch instead of carrying it down to the infirmary.  
“How bad is it down there?” Bolin asked, uncharacteristically serious. Opal shrugged helplessly.  
“I’ve not seen many but...bad. Really bad. They’re still bringing people over. They found a woman in one of the cabins and the captain...well let’s just say it’s a good thing the _Sul’s_ crew are still on their ship.”  
“The woman?”  
“Korra says she should make it.”  
“That’s something I suppose.” Boling hugged Opal. “Tap out if it’s getting too much, yeah? This is a rough job. We can all take a turn.”  
“They’re keeping it women only down here right now,” Opal told him. “But when they’re settled...maybe. I’ll see you at the cabin later, ok?”  
“You better.”  
They parted reluctantly, Opal and the woman lifting the stewpot and disappearing below. Asami looked down into the gloom, and felt Bolin’s hand on her shoulder.  
“Trust me, you don’t want to go down there right now.”  
Asami let herself be led away.

Asami’s eyelids were beginning to droop when Pema politely but firmly booted her out of the galley before she accidentally sliced up her fingers rather than the vegetables. Korra was still on the _Fortune_ , so Asami stumbled down into the _Ravaa’s_ infirmary, finding Mako.  
“Asami!” he struggled upright, his chest wound clearly still paining him. “What the hell has been happening? I heard gunfire, and cannons and...are you ok? Is Bo ok?!”  
Asami sank down next to his bunk, leaning against the wooden support beam.  
“We’re both fine.” She reassured him. “As to what’s been happening, well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He didn’t. After Asami finished explaining he just stared at her, waiting for the punchline. It took him a long time to realise it wasn’t coming.

Bolin came down sometime later to check on Mako, and Asami forced herself back to her feet, stumbling back to the master cabin. A new heap of ledgers were occupying the table and Asami opened one up, but the light was too poor to read by and her eyes were too tired to strain. She shut it, dropping into one of the chairs. It was dark now, the sun had set while she had been below, or maybe even before then, it had all been too frantic to really remember. She drummed her fingers against the wooden arms. Across the room the rum bottle gleamed invitingly in the half light. She turned away from it. Eventually she got changed into her nightclothes, then returned to the chair, waiting. There was no clock to tell the time when the door finally opened. Korra moved like a sleepwalker, feet dragging with each step. At first glance Asami mistook the bags under Korra’s eyes for paint, but she had scrubbed her skin clean. Her hair was falling out of its wolftail. Korra shrugged off her coat as she walked and let it drop, then unfastened her belt, the swords clattering against the floor. Korra stopped just short of Asami with one hand on her shirt buttons, blinking in dull surprise, swaying slightly on the spot. Then she sagged against her, Asami barely catching her in time. Korra’s hands gripped the back of her shirt, her breath coming unevenly as Asami held her, Korra’s face buried in the crook of her neck.  
“Can...” Korra swallowed. “Can we go to bed? Not to...just to bed?”  
Asami kissed her cheek in answer. She didn’t let go of Korra until she moved towards the bedroom and even then she kept one arm around her.

Korra didn’t bother to change. She kicked off her boots and swung herself up into the little cot, Asami slipping in beside her. It was her turn to wrap her arms around Korra, holding her as close as she could in the tiny bed. By the time Asami had gotten settled, with Korra’s not inconsiderable weight somehow ending up on top of her, and pressed a kiss against Korra’s still-frowning forehead she was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I forgiven?


	11. A Disturbance in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra's patience is being tested and Asami has a revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE.
> 
> Sort of.

Asami wasn’t sure if she’d dreamt waking up to find Korra clinging to her, her whole body shaking, but when she definitely woke for real it was still dark and Korra was sitting up. There was another figure in the room with them and Asami caught the trail end of the sentence.  
“...it’s looking like they’re going to try before first light so I thought...” he stopped because Korra had reached up blearily and put her hand over his face.  
“Bolin...just...stop talking.” Korra mumbled. “Too early. Weapons?”  
Bolin held up the belts she’d dropped in the main cabin. She took them with her free hand. “Now go.” She pushed him away gently. “I’ll be right up.”  

Bolin left. Korra just groaned, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she finally made to rise a hand on her arm stopped her.    
“Kor? Wuzgoinon?” Asami managed groggily.   
“It’s nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep, you look exhausted.”   
“And you look so much better?” Asami sniped back, sitting up. Korra chuckled and made a vague conciliatory gesture. “It didn’t sound like nothing.”  
“The escort crews are going to attack us,” Korra said bluntly. Asami sat up.  
“...that seems a bit more than nothing.”   
Korra shrugged. “It’s nothing we can’t handle, especially seeing as they’re coming at us in rowboats given we kinda sank their ships. It’s just...Why do I even bother, you know? I could have killed them all yesterday. I showed mercy. In return I’ve endangered every soul on this ship and I’m going to have to make that call all over again.”  
For some that would have been boastful but Korra just seemed tired. Asami hesitated, but she had to know.  
“Korra, do you want me to stay down here so I don’t...so if it comes to it, I don’t see?”  
The silence was answer enough. Asami leaned across, tipping up Korra’s chin so she was looking at her.   
“I’m coming with you.”  
Korra opened her mouth.  
“Ah!” Asami put a finger to Korra’s lips. “You’re not ordering me around on this one, _captain._ I’m going with you. Because if you have to do this, if they don’t leave you the choice, then I’m not letting you do it alone.”  
Korra considered reminding Asami that ‘alone’ in this context meant ‘accompanied by two crews and with as many of four hundred recently liberated slaves as wanted to join’, but decided against it.

The Korra that shambled onto the deck was not quite the dread captain of legends. She was still wearing yesterdays crumpled clothes, belts buckled carelessly round her, hair sticking up in every direction, boots forgotten in the cabin but apparently perfectly comfortable barefoot. Asami looked even odder, in her nightgown and boots, Korra’s coat over the top for warmth. Bolin was waiting for them with...Asami blinked. Yup. He’d brought a tea set. Asami was too grateful to take the cup to question it. Korra went straight to the rails, squinting out into the dark. She only took the cup after Bolin all but pressed it into her hand.   
“The motherfuckers,” she muttered under her breath. “Ok. Bo, get the crews in position. We’re going to show these bastards why you don’t test my _very_ finite mercy.” She took a sip of tea. “Also, why you don’t wake me up in the middle of the _fucking night_ by threatening everyone I love.”   
Bolin nudged Asami with his elbow.  
“You know, I’m really not sure which of those she’s angrier about.”

The crew waited at the rails. Asami thought she could just about make out the occasional quiet splash of an oar over the usual creaks and the lapping of the waves against the hull. By the way Korra was staring out into the darkness she could see rather more than the average eye could take in. She raised one hand and a ripple of movement travelled down the silent line as they moved into readiness. Asami looked along the line. There were some with rifles at the ready, but the ones that gave her an uneasy feeling were the ones stood empty handed. And, as Korra gave the command, she realised why she was right to. It was like they’d set the ocean ablaze, a barrier of fire cutting off the approaching boats.    
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING?!”

Asami had to admit, as a warcry it was certainly...different.

“Did you think I couldn’t kill you just as easily in the dark?” Korra snarled. “Did you think I’d...”   
She stopped dead, holding up a hand as if to shush the world. Asami could hear nothing but the distant swearing of the sailors. And then Korra’s eyes lit up. Literally. Not with emotion but with white light like the heart of the Sun. Asami didn’t have time to yell out as the advance guard vaulted the rails, barely dodging a swung blade as all hell broke loose. The light of the fire had ruined her night eyes and she fought almost blind as the world around her exploded in fire and ice and hurricanes. The inital guard were dealt with swiftly but the rest of the baots were rowing like mad for the ships. Asami saw the grapples thrown over the side being pulled tight as Korra made it to the side and, just for a moment, Asami could have swron she hesistated, one hand raised high, before she steeled herself. And brought down the lighting. It crackled down her arm, spitting sparks, and Asami heard the screams. Heard the splashes as the bodies fell. The crew hurried back to the rails, raining down on the boarders with all they had as the lines were cut. Finally Korra called a halt. Asami rejoined them at the rail. She’d had nothing to fire, nothing to bring down on them. There still were a few little boats down on the water, and a few bobbing heads were swimming back to their comerades who had decided discretion was the better part of valour and had not attempted to take the _Ravaa_. Korra’s hands were smoking as she cleared her throat, her voice carrying in the sudden silence.   
“Go back to Unalaq.” She ordered. “Tell him this is _my_ sea now. Tell him my mercy is at an end. The next ship I cross there will be no survivors. Tell that sack of cold piss that if he wants me dead he’s going to have to come up here and face me himself, instead of hiding behind corrupted spirits and useless lackies. I don’t enjoy making widows of wives or orphans of children but, by all the spirits, I will dye these seas red before I let you hurt those under my protection.”

Asami hung back as Korra gave orders to throw the dead overboard. If she’d looked tired before it was nothing on her now.   
“What about that one?” someone asked. Korra turned. One of the sailors wasn’t quite dead, but by the pool of blood he was lying in it was a question of when, not if. Korra squatted down beside him, looking him over disinterested.   
“Kya?”  
The older woman appeared from across the deck. She shook her head. Korra’s shoulders drooped just a little before she nodded.   
“We can’t save you.” She said flatly. “I can offer you a quick, painless...”  She didn’t even flinch at the mouthful of bloody saliva he spat at her.   
“Go rot,” he managed. “You. Unalaq. What’s the difference? You’re a pair of monsters. The _great_ Ravaa. You’re pathetic! So go fuck your quick death. I’m not giving you the moral high ground, _murderer_. You _slaughter_ your own people!”  
Korra’s expression didn’t even flicker. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up despite his moan of pain so that his ear was level with her mouth. Whatever it was she said had the man staring at her, mouth open in something between shock and horror and respect, until another spasm of pain had him trying to curl on in himself.   
“May I?” Korra asked, her voice low. He hesitated, and finally he nodded. Korra placed two fingers on his brow, like some kind of blessing. There was a flash of light, a crackle of lightning, and the man went limp.

Korra stood up, dragging a sleeve across her face to clear it of blood.   
“We need to get underway,” she announced. “No point waiting for the next patrol to come through here. These chumps might actually make me kill them all if we give them the opportunity and that would be...well. And...can someone deal with him, please?”  
Willing hands took the body.

With the cat out of the bag Asami was free to see just how the crew really worked; the weighted ropes for the earthbenders to haul on, the airbenders leaping around the rigging and masts like flying squirrels, helping lift the sails with carefully controlled gusts as waterbenders scoured blood from the deck. She’d probably have enjoyed the sight, well, minus the blood at least, if Korra had been a bit more...Korra. Not just sitting on the steps to the quarterdeck, head resting against the wooden banister. Asami took an uncertain step forward, and Bolin gave her an encouraging nod. Asami crossed to her, sitting down beside her. She put a hand on Korra’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. After a little while Korra leaned away from the banister, resting her head on Asami’s shoulder instead.

The peace was spoiled a little time later by Opal sheepishly interrupting to ask for a heading, and Korra hauled herself to her feet. Asami joined her at the helm. She had no compass. She didn’t even look at the stars. She just closed her eyes for a moment, until her breathing grew deep and even, and when she opened them again there was a hint of her usual fire in them again.   
“That way.” She declared, pointing somewhere off the starboard bow. Asami waited for the forced laugh. It never came.  
“We’re sailing on a bearing of ‘over there’?” She clarified.   
“Of course.” Korra said, as if it was a daft question.   
“And what exactly is over there?”  
Korra smiled.   
“Somewhere beyond the reach of even Unalaq. Somewhere beyond the Wild Water.”  
“What captain dramatic is trying to say,” Opal cut in. “Is that we’re going home.”

The ships sailed off into the night, the _Spirit of Sul_ being towed behind them. Nobody had wanted to crew it in its current state.

Korra had tried to persuade Asami to go back to bed. Again. Asami had managed to drag Korra back with her, despite her protests, because she’d never been good at denying Asami anything and Asami knew it. She also knew she felt tired to her bones and Korra had to be feeling at least as bad.  Besides, the cabin was pretty much the most private spot on the entire vessel and there was something Asami needed to know.

She waited until they were comfortably settled once more, her arm loosely round Korra’s waist, and for Korra to stop mock grumbling about being sent to bed like a child.  
“Do you remember all those old Water Tribe myths you used to tell me?” Asami asked, and Korra was apparently too tired to hear anything other than a casual tone.   
“Yeah. You want a bedtime story, ‘sami?”  
“Tempting, but no. I was just thinking about stuff, and I think I remembered something.”  
“Hmm?” Korra sounded half-asleep already for all her protests. Asami kept her tone light.   
“About how spirits and humans interact. You remember telling me?”  
The grunt was a little more strained this time. Asami’s thumb was tracing little circles on Korra’s hip.   
“About how spirits don’t just grant abilities. About how they bond with human hosts.”  
Korra flipped over, nearly tipping them both out, looking panicky, but Asami kept her tone level, kept the gentle contact. “It’s what happened to you, isn’t it?” She asked softly. “You didn’t just become Ravaa’s champion. You became her vessel.”

Korra swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as a desert.  
“I...” She managed. “I wanted to tell you but...”  
Asami closed the tiny distance between them, kissing her.   
“...you’re ok with it?” Korra asked dumbly. Asami rolled her eyes.   
“Whatever gave you that impression?” She teased, but dropped the tone at the apprehension on Korra’s face. “Did you think I’d be miffed that you let this spirit inside you...wait. That you opened yourself to...uh...that you shacked up with...oh, to hell with it.” She kissed her again. “Awkward word choice aside, Kor, I don’t care. And I’m going to repeat that because,” she rapped her knuckles gently against Korra’s skull, “this is dense as teak. _I’m ok with it._ You know, just providing you don’t go all glowy-eyed on me when we’re having some alone time. I’m ok with sharing you with a tentacley spirit but I’m a one woman kind of girl. And tentacles really don’t do it for me.”  
“But...” Korra bit her lip. “I mean, I’m not human...”  
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” All trace of joking was gone from Asami’s voice. It wasn’t harsh but it was firm. “Don’t you dare. You’re just as human as me, or anyone else. You gained an extra spirit, Korra, you didn’t lose yours.”  
“You really don’t think I’m a monster?” Korra asked in a small voice. Asami’s stomach gave a nasty twist. Was that what Korra thought of herself? Was that what she saw in the mirror?  
“Never.” She told her, one hand on her cheek. “Never. I never could. I saw everything you did up there, Korra. They forced your hand. You didn’t have to spare any of them, but you did. Twice. That’s not a monstery thing to do. I could never love a monster, Korra, but I love you. _I love you_ , and I’m gonna be here from now on to drown out that stupid little voice in your head that’s telling you otherwise. Got it?”  
“Yes ma’am,” Korra gave a weak smile and a half hearted salute.    
“Good. Now, unless you have any more revelations to share, and unless Ravaa herself has any objections, I would like to curl up with you and get some goddamn sleep.”  
Korra chuckled.   
“I think she’d be ok with that.”

Kya quite forgot what she’d been looking for Korra for when she opened the door to the little bedroom and saw the captain sleeping peacefully for once, wrapped up in Asami’s arms. The early morning light was streaming through the porthole, getting dangerously close to the sleepers’ faces. Kya shut the shutters as quietly as she could and slipped back out. Whatever it was could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ravaa's out of the bag (and into Korra) and everyone gets happy snuggles on the way to the wild water. It'd almost be a romcom, if it wasn't for all the dead people.


	12. Beyond the Wild Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami finds out what happens after the rescues. Even the master of the seas needs a port to call home.

Mako was still a little unsteady on his feet as Bolin helped him up onto the deck, but he wasn’t going to complain. The fresh air felt amazing after days below decks.   
“Well would you look at that!”  
Asami came hurrying down from the sterncastle, all but flinging herself at him. Mako tried and failed not to wince.  
“Sorry!” Asami loosened her grip. “It’s just so good to see you up and about.”  
“Good to be up,” Mako agreed. “Apparently this was something I couldn’t miss?”   
Asami shrugged. They’d weighed anchor for a reason, but she was as clueless as Mako. All she knew was it had something to do with the _Spirit of Sul_. The liberated slaver had been causing problems; even with literal mastery of the seas it was cumbersome to tow another ship, but whilst it stank like a slaver there was no chance of any volunteers to crew her, and Korra would sooner have chewed off her arm and used it to row the boat than ask any of its former captives to step back aboard. So they’d stopped and now she wasn’t exactly sure what would happen next. The entire convoy was sat there in the middle of the sea, most of the passengers clustering around the decks as if they expected something interesting to happen.

Korra emerged from her cabin, dressed in a sleeveless tunic that showed off her arms quite magnificently.   
“So that’s her, is it?” Mako asked, looking her up and down as she crossed towards the rail. “Well. Huh.”  
“Eyes to yourself,” Asami was only half joking.   
“I’m behaving!” Mako protested as Bolin sniggered. “So, this elemental deal, just what exactly...”  
He stopped talking because Korra had just leapt from the rails, flames bursting out of her feet and fists, carrying her across to the _Sul_.   
“...huh...” he managed weakly.

Korra found her space at the centre of the deck, trying to avoid breathing in the rank stench that wafted up from the bowels of the ship. She flexed her fingers, feeling the ebb and flow of the ocean beneath her.

Asami heard the murmurings start but couldn’t understand why. Korra wasn’t exactly doing anything too impressive. And then she realised that she was the only one watching Korra as opposed to what Korra was actually doing. The water was rising around the _Sul_ , sliding up the sides of the ship like a downpour in reverse, slipping through the hatchways, making its way inside the belly of the ship. Asami watched it flow inside, guided by Korra’s deft movements, and then explode out the hatchways like a dozen geysers, carrying with it all the filth of the belowdeck hold, not to mention a few unsecured items of furniture, in a glorious cascade. Finally the flow up ceased, but it took time to filter through to the fountains in the deck, drying up from the base of the plume of water. Korra took a moment to survey a job well done before boosting herself back to _Ravaa_ , landing lightly on the deck beside Asami.   
“Show off,” Asami shook her head, not even able to feign disapproval.  
“You love it.”  
“No I...yeah, I do.” Asami admitted, as Korra stretched up to kiss her.

Asami had rather forgotten Mako was there, which was why she blushed tomato red on breaking away. His expression was rather like what she would have hoped her father’s would have been if he’d caught her with Iroh. If there had been anything to catch between her and Iroh.  
“I, uh...”  
“You know,” Mako said conversationally, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look that happy. And you,” He turned to Korra, “I’d do the over-protective speech but seems kind of moot at this point, given the whole,” He waved his hand indistinctly, trying to find a polite way to phrase ‘you probably wouldn’t hurt her given you were already executed horribly to protect her’, “...thing,” he finished weakly. “And the fact that you’re apparently some kind of elemental demigod who could probably break me in half without breaking a sweat.”  
Korra folded her arms, flexing as she gave him a crooked grin.  
“Wouldn’t need bending for that. Now, I’ve got to sort a crew for the _Sul_ now it’s in a fit state for humans, and then we should get underway again. I want to get these folk,” she indicated the crowd of liberated slaves watching in understandable astonishment, “somewhere safe before we run into anyone else and I think they’ve spent more than enough time at sea.”

“I meant it,” Mako said, as Korra walked away. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this...free.”  
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good,” Asami agreed.   
“You know, besides the whole nearly dying thing, I think this has turned out pretty good.” Mako reflected. “I found Bo,”  
“We found you, you mean,” Bolin corrected, nudging his brother in the ribs with his elbow. Mako gave the eye roll of older siblings worldwide and continued,   
“You found Korra, and we’re free of your dad, doing good works...or at least you are, and I’ll pitch in once I can lift something without splitting open again, and did I mention that we’re both not dead? That’s a good thing. This is all good things.”  
Asami nodded.   
“And your girlfriend can fly.” Added Mako, in a voice that was just about more wonder than freaking out.   
“Yes. Yes she can.”

 They went faster without having to tow the ship, heading out deeper into the ocean on Korra’s very specific bearing of “over that way”.   
  
Asami noticed the smudge on the horizon first thing after she emerged from the cabin, sharing a bite of breakfast with Mako, Bolin and Opal, but she thought nothing of it. It was when it was still there, and rather closer, the next day that she started to feel a little concerned. The concern became downright alarm as they drew closer and closer, with not a hint of adjusting course, the waves already growing rougher, the winds wilder. She scrambled up to the sterncastle, where Korra was at the helm, Bolin waiting at her shoulder.   
“Uh, Cap’n?”  
The title slipped out and Asami didn’t know why. Korra was grinning, but it was a little manic, her hair and coat whipping around her in the wind.   
“Yes?”  
It was a stupid question, but Asami had to ask.   
“You see that dirty great storm on the horizon?”  
“Aye!” Korra’s grin only grew wider.  
“You know we’re heading right for it?”  
“Yup!”  
“Korra, that is a fucking ship killer! We cannot sail through that!”  
“We don’t have to!”  
Asami felt wrong footed. Bolin was trying not to grin which didn’t seem to bode well in the circumstances.  
“We don’t?”  
“Oh no,” Korra grinned that mad grin again. “Only halfway! Honestly Asami,” Korra gestured to the surging sea before them, the thick clouds, “I thought you were a genius!”  
“I don’t see what my intelligence has to do with that monster storm!”  
The ship hit a trough, deeper than before, and Asami lurched. Korra frowned.   
“JINORA!” She bellowed, and the girl came leaping down from the rigging. “Get everyone lashed on, and batten down the hatches. This is going to be a rough one.”  
Jinora saluted and hurried away, giving the call to tie on lifelines and make the ship ready to broach the storm. Korra ensured Asami’s rope was fastened but made no move to tie herself on.  
“Korra?”  
“It’s fine!” Korra reassured her, and there was no hiding the wild gleam in her eyes. “Honestly, Asami? You don’t see it?”  
“I see a bloody great storm the size of a small country!” Asami had to raise her voice over the wind.   
“Exactly!” Korra beamed. “The storm. Is it angry, do you think?”  
“Angry?” Asami repeated in disbelief. “It looks bloody livid! It looks wild...” her voice died in her throat. “You are fucking kidding me.”  
 “Nope!” Korra smiled. “Behold, Asami! The Wild Water.”

The Wild Water. The mythical base for the mythical pirate. Asami certainly hadn’t imagined it looking anything like this. The storm was vast, wider than any she’d seen, even heard of in old mariner’s tales. It seemed to span the whole horizon.   
“You have got to be kidding me...” Asami repeated weakly, as they broke into the rain clouds.   
“Bolin!” Korra called, and Bolin hurried forward, taking control of the helm from Korra, immediately struggling to hold the wheel to the course. Korra sprinted for the bows, leaping down the stairs, slaloming between crew members, sliding on the rain-slick deck as she struggled to the prow, scrambling up onto the pitching bowsprit. Asami’s heart was in her mouth, her nails digging into the rail as Korra bounced along the bucking bowsprit as casually as if she was skipping through puddles in the park, and stretched out her hands. Even at this distance Asami saw the bright white glinting off the cloud banks as they split open, a tunnel of rolling thunder. Somehow she forced herself to turn to Bolin, still fighting to hold the wheel still. He tried to sound casual, despite the strain on his face.  
“Well it beats hiding the key under the doormat, doesn’t it?”

The storm was hollow. It wasn’t a cyclone; it was a ring, not that most ships who dared to chance it would have found out before they were sunk. But on the far side the water was calm. Almost eerily so. The wind was gentle. And ahead were islands. Not just one, but at least a dozen, great hummocks rising from the ocean. She could see the masts of a few ships between them, a tall temple tower. She undid the safety line, crossing down to meet Korra who had returned to the deck.   
“Well?” Korra asked, as Asami took in the surreal sight. “What do you think?”  
Asami couldn’t say anything. Around them, like a black ring around the edge of the world, the storm raged on.

“Oops,” Korra looked guilty. “Forgot to signal.” She stepped away, raising a fist to blast two plumes of flame into the sky. The answering blast came quickly. “My bad.”

They eased their way towards the docks. Asami could see activity on the islands as they passed, people hurrying across bridges, or setting out in dinghies, heading for the docks.  
“Looks like the welcome party is assembling,” Asami observed. “You must be popular.”   
Korra just laughed and shook her head.  
“They’re not here for me.”

The crowd was already gathering as they drew alongside the dock, no need for pilot ships in the gentle currents, though they had a small flotilla escorting them. At this range Asami could see almost invariably they were Water Tribe, and the penny dropped like an anchor when the first freed slave, over on the _Oogie_ , gave a yell of excitement. Of recognition of the occupants of the little boat alongside.  There was a splash and cursing from across the water as he vaulted the rail, hit the water, flailed desperately for a moment longer than was comfortable, and then was pulled into the dinghy and into the arms of its occupants.

They reached the docks, mooring quickly. The gangplanks were slid out and the passengers began to disembark, some eagerly, some nervous, into the quickly growing crowd, searching for familiar faces, for the call of a familiar name, heading through the scrum towards the signs of towns they’d once called home. Korra stayed onboard as the mass grew, Tenzin fighting his way through with his armful of ledgers to join them.   
“We try organising,” Korra admitted, leaning against the rail on her forearms, as Asami surveyed the chaos, “but it never really works. Everyone’s too excited. Or nervous. And too much attempt to holding order just makes the whole thing look like a market, which is the exact opposite of what we’re going for.” Asami heard thumping behind her, and turned to see a desk had been dragged out onto the deck. Tenzin’s ledgers were piled on one side. There was an even bigger pile on the other side. Korra cupped her hands to her mouth and thought better of it. “Hang on, cover your ears.” She warned. Asami did so, but she still winced at the volume. “IF ANYONE NEEDS HELP LOOKING FOR FRIENDS OR RELATIVES PLEASE FORM AN ORDERLY QUEUE UP TO THE _RAVAA_. NO MORE THAN FIVE ON THE GANG PLANK _PLEASE_ , YOU HAVE ALL COME TOO FAR TO DROWN NOW.”

 Korra barely seemed to need to refer to the mountain of documents at her disposal, directing the hopeful, hopeless or lost towards where they might find friends and kin long given up for dead. There were tears as Korra showed them sketches of faces they thought they would never see again as proof and pointed them in the direction of the real thing, bittersweet reunions at the dockside.  There didn’t seem to be anyone Korra couldn’t find someone for, somewhere for them to at least stay for the first few nights. Finally Korra closed the last ledger, flopping back in her chair for a moment.   
“Asami,” she addressed her from her upside down position. “There’s one last thing I gotta do. I imagine you’d like to get settled.  I have a...there’s a...house. If you wanted to, um. House. There.” She indicated up above the bay, where a white walled house sat on an outcrop. “The main track,” Korra indicated it “leads right up there.” She heaved herself up with a groan, taking a prepared sheet of folded paper and stuffing it in her pocket.

Asami made to follow, despite the invite, when Kya put a hand on her arm.  
“Some things the captain has to do herself,” She said quietly, and then, seeing Asami’s confused expression, added in a lower voice, “And some things are better done without the slaver’s daughter hovering about.”  
Asami went red.   
“It’s not your fault, kid,” Kya reassured her, “But Korra’s got to go tell people that their loved ones didn’t make it, and that ain’t something that needs any spectators. Come on, let’s get your shit up to the house.”

It didn’t take long to gather up the little she’d bothered to bring onto the _Ravaa_. Aside from her mother’s ring and Korra’s armband there wasn’t really much of it she cared about anyway.

The track up to Korra’s place was thankfully not too steep, though Asami was slightly out of breath by the time they got to the top. If she hadn’t been then the view might have done the job all by itself. The islands and the bays were as pretty as a picture in the late evening sun, set against the backdrop of the ever-rolling storm clouds.   
 “How do you ever leave this place?” She wondered aloud, and Kya laughed.   
“I ask myself that same question every time we come home. For about a week. And then I can’t wait to put out to sea again. I’ll leave you to get settled.”  
“Is there a key...”  
Kya laughed again.   
“You think anyone on these islands would ever want to do Korra harm?”

Kya was still chuckling as she retreated down the track, leaving Asami at the threshold.

The house was well built for the climate; shady and airy, cool even now. Asami felt like a trespasser as she set her belongings down on the little table. The house was furnished much like the cabin; no determined effort to do anything in particular with it, just a collection of odds and ends that had eventually required furniture or wall mountings to stop them taking over the floor. Asami headed out onto the veranda, where an old sagging sofa covered in blue blankets looked entirely too welcome. She sank into it, taking in the spectacular view and the warm, lazy sunlight, the crickets buzzing in the undergrowth.

Asami wasn’t sure if she dozed off or not, but she was definitely awake to hear the crunch of approaching boots. She stood and stretched, going back into the house in time to meet Korra in the hallway. She looked drained but she smiled all the same.   
“What is it I’m supposed to say?” She asked “uh...’hi honey, I’m home’?”  
“You know,” Asami pulled Korra closer to her. “I actually like the sound of that.”  
Korra gave a gentle laugh and Asami rested her forehead against Korra’s.

Korra hunted down a bottle of rum, blowing the dust off the cork, and carried out two generous glasses to the battered sofa on the veranda.   
“Trying to get me drunk?” Asami couldn’t even attempt a reproachful tone.  
“Always,” Korra replied, straight-faced. Asami elbowed her and the mask cracked. “There’s, uh, there’s a sort of gathering this evening. Down on the beach. I was wondering if, well...”  
Asami snorted.  
“Korra, I have spent the last few weeks sharing your bed, and I’ve just moved into your house. You cannot be nervous about inviting me to dinner.”  
Korra’s cheeks went red.   
“I just...I didn’t want to assume, ok?” She pouted and looked down, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to take it for granted. Take _you_ for granted.”  
Asami’s heart swelled. She reached out, finding Korra’s hand.   
“Well in that case, my _gallant_ captain,” Korra poked out her tongue at that but Asami continued unfazed. “I would very much like to come to dinner with you.”

There was no hurry. They finished their drinks first. Korra offered Asami her arm as they strolled back down the slope towards the smell of the cooking fires.

In retrospect Asami shouldn’t really have been surprised. Korra had talked to her often enough about life back in the South, and the parties they held when the hunters returned, and this seemed to be much the same, albeit on an even greater scale. There were fires every few hundred yards, great trestle tables loaded with fresh food; meat and fish and vegetables, giant kegs of ale laid out on racks, tapped and ready to fill the tankards of the gathering crowd.   
“This is quite the little paradise you’ve got here,” Asami said approvingly, as they helped themselves to food and drink, as so many others were doing. Asami could see the crowd parted ever so slightly for Korra. It wasn’t anything as extreme as deference, but it was respectful. Korra shrugged.  
“Everyone pitches in, and it seems to work. We sell the looted cargo to get anything extra we need. And that is _cargo_ , not people. I’ve had to cut more than one crewman loose who failed to understand the difference.”

There were no tables or benches, not even an attempt at order, just dozens of gatherings up and down the waterfront. Some of the crew of the _Ravaa_ and _Oogie_ had gathered together on the soft sand of the beach, the circle shifting a little to allow the two newcomers to sit. Mako was sprawled out, leaning back against a chunk of driftwood, looking tipsy already. Opal was sat on Bolin’s lap, the arm holding his plate round her waist. Meelo and Ikki were bickering about something that had happened during the unloading of the ship, and Tenzin and Pema had given up trying to keep the peace. Kya dropped down onto the sand with a thump, handing out tankards of ale with a cheerful lack of coordination that suggested she’d already had quite a lot of it, attempting to surreptitiously pass Jinora a mug. She failed utterly but Pema forestalled Tenzin’s objections, and then had to deal with Ikki and Meelo demanding drinks of their own which, as Pema announced with a glare at the circle in general, _definitely_ was not going to happen. A bearded man that Asami didn’t recognise put his hands up in surrender as Pema gave him a pointed look, and Meelo gave a groan of _‘awww, let down uncle Bumi!’_ and pouted.

“Another successful trip,” Tenzin smiled. He raised his tankard. “To those we’ve lost, those we’ve found, and those we’ve yet to find.”  
There was a general murmuring of agreement as they raised their tankards and clinked them together. Asami reached down and linked her fingers with Korra’s.

The eating and drinking went on late into the evening, until the sun began to set behind the storm clouds. It wasn’t long before Asami started to hear something else above the noise of conversation and laughter and the crackle of the fires. Music. Further down the beach some of the island residents had gotten a few instruments together, and the others were starting to get to their feet, beginning to dance. Another group, further down, struck up as well, and soon little bands were breaking out up and down the beach, good naturedly trying to drown out their neighbours. Soon the band were joining together, the dancers forming a bigger whirling mass. Bolin and Opal were on their feet, Tenzin and Pema too, to the despair of their children. Asami found herself being pulled to her feet by Bumi, who gave her a wink.  
“Cap’n grouchy is going to be needed in a minute,” he whispered, “she doesn’t really dance, anyhow...”  
“And by that he means she _really_ doesn’t dance,” Bolin chimed in as he passed by Asami.  
“...so, if you’ve no objections...?”  
Asami glanced back to Korra who smiled a little self consciously and raised her tankard.  
“Of course not.”  
Bumi grinned, took her by the hand and then they were whirling into the chaos. Eventually the haphazard groups of spinning individuals formed up into lines, clapping to the beat as pairs came galloping down an ever extending causeway. Asami frowned as she saw the next pair come spinning down, because unless the ale was going to her head...she looked at Bumi and he grinned and winked. Bolin had somehow ended up beside her and gave her the same expression as Korra scrambled to her feet, realising that there were now several hundred people looking expectantly her way, and none more expectant than the three stood before her. Asami didn’t understand the word used to address Korra, but the rest she got without a problem.   
_“Will you marry us?”_

Bolin leaned Asami’s way and whispered,  
“Nira, in the middle there,” he indicated the woman, “Was with Toas, but she got taken before he was, and she found Req here. Then, six months back, Korra took the ship with Toas on and they reunited but she was with Req. Except Toas and Req got on something fine, and they both already loved Nira, so...” He shrugged. “Why not make a go of it, all together?”  
He caught Korra’s mock glare as she mouthed _you planned this, I know it_ , but she couldn’t conceal her smile, completely blindsided, genuine joy. She turned back to the trio before her.   
“ _Me? Surely Tenzin...”  
_ There was that word again, the address Asami wasn’t quite sure about. _“There is no better,”_ said Req firmly. _“You brought us together.”_  
_“I’m honoured. Truly. Uh. Well. Shall we?”_ Korra asked, and at a nod she raised them up slightly on a little rock plinth, so that those at the back could see more easily. _“Well, I didn’t exactly have a chance to prepare a speech for this, so I guess we’re doing the speedy version.”_   
“ _No objections here!”_ Nira said. Korra cleared her throat, fingers drumming against her thigh as she sought for some appropriate words.

_“Everyone here today has seen enough of the dark side of the world. We’ve all hurt enough. We all deserve to grab whatever happiness we can find in this life with both hands and hold onto it,”_ Asami was pretty certain Korra’s eyes had flickered over to her _. “And these three are doing exactly that, and spirits help anyone who stands in the way of them. So, by the power vested in me by absolutely no one, and before this gathering of found-kin and friends, I charge anyone present to come up with a damn good reason these three should not be wed.”_ Korra paused, looking theatrically at the crowd. Nobody spoke. “ _Good, because I’d hate to ruin this,”_ that got a laugh. _“Nira, do you wish to wed Toas and Req?”  
“I do.”  
_ Korra took her outstretched hands and joined them, one with each of the men. _  
“And Toas, do you wish to wed Nira and Req?”  
_ Req extended his hand and Korra clasped them together. _  
“I do.”  
“And Req, do you wish to wed Nira and Toas?”  
“Aye, cap’n.”  
_ With no more hands to join Korra simply gave the two pairs of gripped hands a gentle squeeze. __  
“In that case, by the light of the Moon, by the power of the ocean, with the blessing of Ravaa, may you be bound in happiness until the end of your days. You may kiss the, uh...ah, fuck it, just everyone kiss!”  
The extremely newlyweds needed no prompting, to cheers that rolled the length of the crowd like a wave. Korra brought them back down to ground level and the gathering reformed in shape, into what on flatter, more accommodating ground would have been a circle but was in reality an uneven oval shape around the trio, and the bands began to play again.

The dancing and drinking began again in earnest. Asami looked for Korra and spotted her sat back down by where they had eaten, lounging against what had been Mako’s log.   
“I didn’t know you could marry people,” She said, and Korra jumped a little at that. Asami sat down beside her.  
“Strictly speaking it isn’t legal, but hey,” Korra shrugged, staring off into the middle distance, not focusing on anything that Asami could see. “I don’t think an illegal marriage is going to be the deal breaker if the law ever catches up with us.”  
“Where’s your head at?” Asami asked quietly and Korra sighed, tearing her gaze away from the infinite.   
“A hundred places. A hundred thousand things that need to be done.”  
“You want to bring it back here for a bit?” Asami asked gently, “Because I think we should go taking some of your advice.” She squeezed Korra’s hand. “I’ve got you, Korra, and I’m not letting you go. Not again. Now,” She looked at the happy crowd. “Unless there’s any truly pressing matters I think we’ve earned a little time for us, don’t you?”  
A slow smile spread across Korra’s face as she realised what Asami was suggesting. 

Korra lit the oil lamps with a snap of her fingers, nearly setting the curtains alight as Asami was trying to unbuckle her sword belt at the same time. Korra’s shirt was the next thing to go, and then Asami froze. She pulled back to see Korra has her eyes closed, jaw clenched tight, and pressed a kiss to the tightly pursed lips, hands moving without hesitation across a back that was more scar than skin. Korra relaxed into her as Asami’s fingers continued their progress across the ridges and grooves. There was no need for words as Asami began to pull at Korra’s bindings.   
“Wait,” Korra pulled away and Asami stopped again, alarmed, but Korra was grinning. She crossed to the door, kicking the wedge into place and then, with a thoughtful look on her face, making a motion over the latch.   
“Did you just bend the door locked?” Asami asked, amused. Korra nodded.   
“Yup.”  
“And why...”  
“Well,” there was a little extra sway in Korra’s hips as she returned, clad now only on her loose trousers, taking Asami’s waist. “The last time we did this and forgot to lock the door I ended up _dead_. I’m taking no chances this time.”  
“...you’re lucky you’re cute.”

Bolin and Opal staggered out of the melee of dancers, pleasantly exhausted and giddy with ale and joy, and flopped onto the sand. Bolin looked around for an unattended mug, and noticed the groove in the sand where Korra had been.   
“Oh, come on!” He groaned. “I swear, if she’s gone off to check the storehouses again I’m going to drag her ass back down here. Now is not the time to do inventory, now is the time to celebrate!”  
Opal snorted.  
“Bo, unless Asami’s had a name change in the last half hour I can guarantee you Korra is not doing _inventory_.”

They weren’t rushing. There was no need. For the very first time there was nothing that could interrupt them, no need to keep an ear open for the creak of footsteps on the stairs, no need to restrain themselves from leaving marks or making noise, and they were making the most of it, relearning every inch of each other, every sensitive spot. They had three years to make up for, after all.

It was probably a small mercy that Korra lived far from any neighbours.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Island hideouts! Polyamory! Korra and Asami doing it! And I only made you wait a month this time!


	13. Safe Harbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back! We're finally back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will make full apologies for the delay afterwards as I think I've kept you waiting long enough already.

When Asami woke sunlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains. She turned away from it with a groan, and rolled into a head of messy brown hair. Korra was sprawled out on the bed beside her, spectacularly inelegant and utterly beautiful in the morning light, limbs splayed, hair tousled, completely at peace, sheets tangled around her midsection. Asami propped herself up on one elbow, just enjoying the sight. Somewhere outside a bird began to squawk and Korra groaned in her sleep, raising one hand in an indistinct gesture that ended up prodding Asami in the face. There was a moment’s confusion as Korra’s fingers blindly felt across her face, and then the pirate smiled in her sleep.  
“Mornin’,” she mumbled, still not quite awake even as she cracked open one eye.  
“Morning,” Asami echoed softly.  Korra pushed herself up on her arms, capturing Asami’s lips in a slow kiss. “Ok, good morning,” Asami corrected herself, and Korra grinned, shifting her weight and rolling so she was on top of Asami.  
“You know, I think I can improve on that.”

“Definitely best morning.”  
Korra made a noise of agreement from where she’d rolled off, face down on the mattress. Asami lifted her head, and the morning took a little bit of a dip. She’d known, in theory, about the scars. She’d felt them enough last night. It was different, seeing them in the light of day. There wasn’t much intact skin on Korra’s back. There was something odd about them though, and Asami craned her neck to try and see better.  
“Ravaa,” Korra mumbled, waving indistinctly at her back, and Asami jumped a little, not realising that Korra had been observing Asami observing her. “There’s always a mark, when a spirit bonds with a human. It’d look a bit prettier but she wasn’t exactly working with the most pristine canvas at the time. She’s almost as possessive as you,” Korra added with a grin, turning over and indicating the love bites Asami had left on her. Asami blushed, opened her mouth to apologise, and froze at the unearthly gurgling that sounded. Korra’s eyes went wide.  
“Asami...was that your _stomach_!?”

The heiress was going bright red, and Korra was laughing.  
“Did you swallow a buffalo toad, or are you just hungry?”  
Asami was still blushing furiously, trying to hide behind her hands. Korra prised them away gently, kissing her again. “Aw, it’s ok. I’ll get us something.”  
Korra slipped out of the bed, grabbing a soft looking dressing gown from the back of the door before stepping out of the bedroom. There was a pause, a thud, and Korra called back to Asami.  
“Um. You know how we’ve been on the same ship for the last few weeks?”  
“...yes?”  
“And that we didn’t exactly swing by the storehouses last night?”  
“Yes?”  
“...I have no food in this house.”

Asami wrapped the sheet round her, joining Korra in the little kitchen, where the dreaded pirate captain was glaring accusingly at a very empty cupboard. Asami wrapped her arms around Korra from behind, resting her chin on Korra’s shoulder.  
“I suppose your mystic abilities don’t extend to conjuring food?”  
Korra shook her head ruefully.  
“I wanted to spend a little more time here,” She said, a little wistfully. “You know, just us. Like we always said.”  
“We’ve got all the time in the world, Kor.” Asami’s stomach gurgled loudly again. “Well,” she amended, “we will if I don’t starve to death first.”

The islands were a paradise. There really was no other word for it. For all that Asami would rather have still been in Korra’s house she couldn’t bring herself to mind too much, not when the alternative was strolling across a tropical paradise. Especially, after Asami got a little distracted by Korra’s easy smile in the soft sunlight and nearly tripped over a tree root, strolling hand in hand through a tropical paradise. One of the bland multitude that her father had paraded in front of her over the years had tried to do something similar once, but there was hardly any romance in being guided around what was, in effect, your own back garden by an earnest if chinless individual with no idea where they were going and even less personality. Having Mako glowering along behind hadn’t helped either. This, though, was something utterly different.  For one the forest around them was not quite like anything Asami had ever seen before; the trees and plants seemed familiar enough at first glance but a longer look revealed a thousand species Asami had never seen before, whether in reality or in books. For another the company was infinitely better. Asami leaned against a tree trunk as Korra turned the crank beside the footbridge, gathering in the slack. Some part of Asami’s mind noticed the odd construction of the bridge, but most was too distracted by Korra’s arms to think of much else.

The spire of the temple was visible from a long way off, by far the tallest structure in the little network of islands. They weren’t heading for the temple proper though, just one of the neat little outbuildings. The picture perfect moment was slightly ruined when Asami heard the cry of “ _SNEAK ATTACK!”_ from above. Asami looked up and saw Meelo descending at speed, but before she had time to react Korra had hit him with a blast of air that sent him rocketing backwards, hitting the ground in an ungainly heap.  
“I keep telling you,” Korra said, as if aerial bombardment was a normal way to start the day. “It doesn’t really work if you yell ‘sneak attack’.”  
Meelo pouted as he got to his feet, dusting himself off.  
“I’ll get you one day!” He promised.  
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But...” Korra grinned, kicking out a leg, sending the ground beneath Meelo’s feet shooting skywards, launching the kid into the air. “...not today.”    
Asami saw the slightest tensing in Korra’s shoulders as Meelo tumbled through the air. It vanished the moment he took control of his descent. She turned, seeing Asami watching her instead of the now pinwheeling boy.  
“What?” She asked, a touch defensively.  
“Your secret’s safe with me, you big softie. Now quit being adorable, because I’m bloody starving.”

Jinora gave them a nod from where she was reading under a tree as they approached the living area. Korra took three steps inside then hastily backpeddled, kicking off her boots and motioning for Asami to do the same.

The dining area was light and airy, already filled with cooking smells. Korra led Asami through the low tables to the kitchen, finding Pema at the stove.  
“Room for two more for lunch?”  
“Two normal appetites, maybe. You, on the other hand?” Pema  made a face, and then smiled at Korra’s comical pout. “Korra, you know you never have to ask.” she passed Korra a teapot. “Boil that, will you? I could do with a cup of tea.”  
Korra rolled her eyes but heated it up all the same.

Even at Korra’s side Asami felt a little out of place. There were three years of history sitting around her, layered into every in-joke and casual conversation, in the way people passed the dishes around the table without needing prompting because of course Korra needed a third helping of dumplings and Meelo couldn’t be trusted with the teapot, and Jinora would miss out on the choice bits because her nose was buried in her book if Ikki hadn’t taken it on herself to load up Jinora’s plate too. For all Korra’s house might have been up on its own it was clear she was as much a part of the family as any of them. Asami was suddenly aware of a lot of eyes on her, Korra included.  
“Sorry, what?”  
“The kids were wondering if they could steal me for a bit.” Korra explained. “Airball match. If that’s ok with you?”     
Asami couldn’t have turned down that many puppy-dog eyes for all the tea in the Fire nation.  
“Of course.”  
Across the table Meelo cheered.

For obvious reasons Asami had never seen an airball game before, but even she could tell that they were deviating wildly from any established rules. It was the way Bumi had picked up Ikki and was currently holding her over his head, giggling like mad, so she couldn’t get the ball. Not that it mattered; Korra and Jinora were making short work of Tenzin and Meelo’s attempted defence.  
“You know she’s showing off for you, right?” Pema asked, amused, as Korra pulled off an unnecessarily dramatic leap to score. Asami nodded, not complaining one bit. They were sat off to one side, Asami too comfortable on the soft grass to bother to pull her boots back on.    
“She’s good with them, isn’t she? The kids.” Asami gestured vaguely at the field of posts, where Korra was setting up a shot for an escaped Ikki. “On the ship she wasn’t this open.”  
“We were on a mission. And the situation wasn’t exactly normal, even for us, what with you...” Pema searched for a word to neatly encapsulate it all and came up blank. Up on the field of posts Meelo missed his footing and hit the ground with a thud. Asami, remembering her childhood acquaintances, braced for the shrieking and pouting, but instead he just leapt back up and carried on with the game.  Pema seemed to gather her thoughts for a while, choosing her words carefully before she finally spoke again.  
“We’ve been seeing less of this side of her.” Her voice was low, no way for the players to hear. “Everyone we save, and everyone we don’t...it’s a lot of weight for anyone to carry. Korra does her best, of course she does, but sometimes it’s all too much even for her.”  
Asami was hardly surprised. She could remember Korra stumbling into the cabin after liberating the slave ship, so exhausted and out of it she seemed to have forgotten that Asami was even there.  
“If you’re trying to warn me, Pema, it’s not necessary. I’m not going to run.”  
Pema laughed.  
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen how the two of you look at each other. I’m telling you so that when a bad day comes along you’re not caught by surprise. So that you know that we’re all here to help.”  
“...oh,” Asami managed, a little embarrassed, but Pema waved away her attempt to apologise. “From the little I’ve gleaned from Korra I gather you never really had much of a family to be part of. Asami, I told Korra she’s always welcome in our home. That goes for you too.”  
The offer was made so casually that it didn’t register at first.  
“It’s probably a little soon to be saying you’re family, but propriety isn’t something we’re good at. Besides, if you’re half the person that Korra said you were then we’d be honoured to have you think of us like that.”  
Asami’s throat felt a little tight but thankfully she was saved answering by Korra dramatically tumbling off the posts, landing almost cat-like on the balls of her feet in front of her.   
“Glorious victory!” She announced, trying to seem dignified but failing terribly as she broke into a grin. “Come on, I think we beat Meelo by enough that he’ll let me leave in peace. Provided we leave now.”  
Asami grabbed the offered hand and found herself being hoisted onto her feet and towed at speed away from the temple, barely able to grab her boots in time.  
“Goodbye!” She called over her shoulder, glancing back to see Pema shaking her head in mock despair.  
“I’ll have the kids bring some supplies over to yours!” she called back. “So try not to be doing anything you wouldn’t want them to be seeing this afternoon!”  
Korra stopped short, Asami colliding with her. She spun and gave a military sharp salute. Even at this distance Asami could see Pema roll her eyes fondly. “Just get out of here, you pirate!”

Korra led them back a different way, taking a slow winding path through the trees. Asami could hear water, not just the sea below them, as they climbed higher up the island. At one point they had to duck as what Asami first took be a bird sailed over their heads. It landed on a tree near the path, clutching a ripe peach in it’s...Asami blinked. Yup. It’s paw.  
“Flying lemur,” Korra informed her. “They’re pretty friendly. Just watch out for the one’s Meelo’s trained. They’re not dangerous but it can give you one hell of a jump to see thirty lemurs flying in formation.”  
“I...” Asami tried to imagine it and gave up. She was getting pretty used to the inexplicable and the impossible, but she drew the line at just plain weird. 

 The trees were beginning to thin out when Korra stopped again.  
“Do you trust me?”  
“Stupid question, Korra.”  
“I’ll take that as a yes. Hopefully you still will after this.”  
“After what...”  
But Korra had scooped Asami up into her arms and was now running for the break in the tree line.  
“Korra what...Korra...KORRA!”  
Asami realised entirely too late what the sudden expanse of sky and rushing noise of water meant, as Korra launched them off the edge of the waterfall, and then the wind was rushing around them and they hit the water.

Korra was laughing before they even surfaced, Asami flailing wildly.  
“You...you...!” Asami was trying to tread water, not laugh, and splash Korra at the same time and wasn’t doing a good job of any of it. The glint in Korra’s eye reminded her that maybe trying to start a water fight with someone that could control it was a bad idea, so she settled for pulling Korra close, running on hand through Korra’s sopping hair.  
“Jerk,” Asami mock pouted, before she kissed her. And dunked her head under afterwards, just for good measure. The grin on her face as she resurfaced let Asami know how much of a bad move she’d just made.

Asami all but crawled out onto the shore, collapsing onto the sand at the edge of the lagoon, exhausted from being chased all around the pool by Korra who, as Asami couldn’t help but notice, barely even seemed winded as she climbed out, finding a patch of sunwarmed sand beside her and stretching out.  
“You’re an ass.” Asami grumbled without menace, as she scooted over to rest her head against Korra’s chest. Korra didn’t even bother to deny it.  
“You love it.”

Korra ended up having to retrieve Asami’s boots from the top of the cliff once they’d both dried out, but it wasn’t as if it took too much effort to carry herself up there on a waterspout.

Pema had made good on her word. Supplies were waiting on the kitchen side on their return, a fat fish sat inside a thick stone box keeping cool atop a layer of ice. Something nagged uncomfortably at the back of Asami’s head as Korra inspected the bounty, shifting most of it into cupboards. She was setting up the firewood for the stove when it finally burst out of Asami’s mouth.  
“IpromisedI’dnevermakeyoucookforme.”  
Korra hit her head on the stove as she stood.  
“What?” She asked, rubbing the back of her head. Asami swallowed, and repeatedly more slowly.  
“I promised I’d never make you cook for me. Not...not when you were free.”  
Korra was staring at her, head slightly cocked to one side looking both amused and bemused but when she realised just how uncomfortable Asami was feeling she abandoned the wood, crossing the kitchen to take her hands.  
“Asami, this is my home. Ours, if you want. These are my islands. So as touched as I am that you’re worried, it’s ok. You’re not making me do anything. I’m choosing to. Believe me, that’s all the difference in the world. Ok?”  
Asami nodded, and Korra smiled.  
“I know, we’ve got a hell of a lot of baggage between us. But we’ll work it out. Just keep telling me if you think we’re edging around something like that and I’ll do the same. And besides,” The smile became that wonderful grin once more. “I’m not doing all the work. Come on, your ladyship. Time you learned to cook for yourself like an honest woman.”

Hiroshi had brought up Asami under the assumption that the closest she’d get to kitchen work was ordering someone else to do it for her. She’d gleaned a little over the years, especially once it became an open secret between her and the cook that she was liberating supplies for others and not for own midnight feasts, but she’d never cooked a meal from start to finish. She’d never had to. She’d never been allowed to. Her pitching in on the galley of the _Appa_ was the limit of her culinary experience and, as it perhaps unsurprisingly turned out, it was rather different cooking for two than for several hundred. Asami might have been a tad biased but in her opinion her meal that night, eaten out on the veranda as the sun began to dip in the sky, was finer than any she’d had in the company of lords and princes. And of course the company didn’t hurt one bit.

When Asami woke the next morning the bed was empty. She got up a little groggily, pulling on Korra’s dressing gown as she went. Korra herself was sat out in the early morning sun, steaming cup at hand as she poured over a ledger. In the air beside her, held aloft by wiggling fingers, were a collection of pebbles arranged in lines. As Asami watched Korra slid a few along an invisible line, muttering under her breath, and the penny dropped. It was a homemade, or home conjured, or whatever the appropriate terminology was, abacus. Asami waited, not wanting to disturb Korra until she flung the stones back into the undergrowth, apparently satisfied. She made a note in the ledger.  
“Morning,” Asami said, slipping into the empty chair and Korra jumped enough to blot her ledger. “Sorry!”  
“No, no, it’s my fault. Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you this morning. I just find lying in can be difficult sometimes. Too much in my head.”  
“Too much to do?”  
Korra laughed, but it didn’t sound quite as carefree as Asami would have liked. And at this distance it was hard not to see that Korra looked tired. Not exhausted, not worn out, but there was just something around her eyes that suggested that a few more hours in bed rather than attending to matters would have done her good.  
“There’s always too much to do. Today, however, it’s working out how much our latest arrivals are going to impact on the islands. We can only be supply so much for ourselves out here; that which won’t grow we have to buy or steal. And stealing is so very hit and miss.” Korra almost successfully swallowed a yawn. “It’s a shame ships don’t advertise upfront what they’re carrying. There’s nothing worse than boarding a ship hoping for medicines and finding it packed with buttons.”  
“I...wouldn’t know.” Asami said truthfully. Korra seemed to remember her manners all of a sudden, picking up the spare teacup she’d brought out with her and, after surreptitiously re-warming the pot, pouring Asami a cup. She took it gratefully, trying to read Korra’s writing upside down.

It was not admittedly calligraphy of a calibre that would have pleased her own tutors but it would have been legible enough if Asami had known the language Korra was writing in. Compared to the other unusual things about Korra it was barely even worth noting, but being able to read and write wasn’t exactly a universal skill. Far from it. Most of the Fire Nation hands on the plantation and in the factory could barely sign their own names or count their pay without having to take off their shoes, and compared to most they were a relatively well educated bunch. Before Korra had brushed off any questions Asami had dared to ask about her knowledge of, by Asami’s count, at least three languages and Asami hadn’t dared, hadn’t _wanted_ to push the matter. Korra’s secrets were her own. Korra’s past was her own. But now all those questions were rising anew because Korra was evidently not just multilingual but literate and, judging by the abacus and the painstaking equations sketched out, numerate to a high degree. Was this something new, something learned between raids? Or was this something she’d learned long before?

Korra caught her scrutiny and offered her a slightly puzzled smile. She dabbed the blotter across the page and shut the book.  
“I have a contact arriving in a few days.” She announced. “Bit prickly but she’s one of the best I know. After that I think we’re going to be needing to set sail, unload some of our ill-gotten gains for some less exciting treasure.” She exhaled heavily, and then seemed to catch herself, grinning across the table. “What do you say, Asami? Think a pirate’s life might be for you?”  
Asami certainly did. Or at least one specific pirate’s life.

The days waiting for the contact went too fast for Asami’s liking, but in truth there was no amount of time that wouldn’t have felt too fast. Korra gave her as much time as she could but she couldn’t pretend she didn’t have responsibilities outside of the two of them, and Asami wouldn’t have wanted her to. Well, at least most of Asami wouldn’t have wanted her to. Besides she wouldn’t have traded the panic she saw that second day for anything. They’d been walking around one of the further out islands when a panicking man had run up to Korra. Asami knew enough to work out he was asking for her help with something and Korra had been ready to do what she could, right up to the point where he’d managed to string together that the help wasn’t for him but his wife. His very pregnant wife. Korra had gone a fantastic shade of grey before rocketing, quite literally, across the bay promising to bring more qualified help. They heard her before they saw her return. Or, more accurately, they heard Kya alternating between threats of bloody murder if Korra put her down, and even bloodier murder if Korra dropped her.

“Does that happen a lot?” Asami asked, after Korra had prised Kya off and she had left to assist the woman in question.  
“Kya trying to kill me?”  
“No, the other thing. Kids. I haven’t seen many about, are there many here?”  
“A few. Not too many, admittedly.” Korra forced a smile. “Not everyone feels safe. They worry about what they have as it is being taken away, and it’s not like they don’t have a good reason for that, so they’re not all tripping over themselves to have families at this point.” She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Come on,” She jerked her head up the track, away from the little cottage. Her tone was light, joking. “It could be hours, and no child should have to deal with me being one of the first things they see. Might scare it so bad it tries to crawl back in.”  
Asami was just half a step slow in following Korra as she headed off, and by the time Korra turned round to check she was there Asami had managed to hide her frown.

There was something off about Korra all afternoon. Nothing glaringly wrong, but she seemed more tense than Asami had seen her since their arrival on the islands.

She buried it as best as she could, leading Asami to one new spectacle or another hidden lagoon, practising swordplay and getting Asami measured up for some actual clothes of her own. Korra’s castoffs were ok up to a point but really Asami needed some trousers that didn’t end mid-shin, and some shirts that couldn’t have fitted into twice over. Then there were the cookery lessons; often they ate with Tenzin and his family, joined by Mako, Bolin and Opal as and when they felt like it but Korra was rather too delighted to find that cooking was not one of the many things that came to Asami naturally and was set on teaching her at least the basics. There was more to do in running the islands than Asami thought possible, a thousand decisions and arbitrations that Korra seemed to be required to weigh in on, but things were good. In fact Asami couldn't think of when times had been better. 

They’d been walking down to the seamstresses when Opal dropped by. Literally. She dropped out of the sky in front of them, making Asami jump out of her skin. Living with benders was still taking some getting used to. Korra, to Asami’s mild annoyance, didn’t even bat an eyelid.  
“Sorry,” Opal said, looking genuinely apologetic as she folded away the gliderstaff. “And, sorry again for interrupting, but Koluk is causing problems and you’re the only one he’ll listen to. Well, without having to punch him first at least.”  
Korra groaned. Loudly.  
“Remind why I didn’t just feed that bastard to a shark?”  
Opal scrunched up her face in thought.  
“You know, I really can’t remember. Probably something about mercy and all that.”  
Korra kicked at a stone.  
“Fine. I’ll be a decent human. Opal, would you mind taking Asami down to the waterfront? Hopefully they should have run her up at least a few clothes by now, even if they haven’t finished them all.”  
“I don’t need a guide, Korra I’m sure...” Asami paused, trying to remember where exactly they were heading. Korra and Opal waited patiently as Asami frowned. “...ok, fine, lead the way. I swear, these islands must move or something.”  
She didn’t see the look that passed between the other two.

Opal was good company, and after they’d collected a small bundle of clothing for Asami she was only too happy to let Asami examine the glider staff. They took a detour on the way back, heading through the storehouses to snag a couple of bottles, Opal dutifully updating the logbook on the way out. She caught Asami’s look of surprise.  
“My mother,” she explained. “She made sure I got the same education as my brothers.” Opal paused. “I probably should have done formal introductions earlier.” She drew herself up and extended her hand. “Opal Beifong, at your service.”  
Asami shook it.  
“Beifong? As in...”  
“Yes.”  
“...so your mother rules a small city state. And you’re a pirate.” The question hovered in the air, unasked. Opal shrugged.   
“Like I told you, I got a chance to do something real, something good. Zaofu is a refuge for a lot of people, like here, but there’s very little mum can do outside of the walls. She understands, as much as she wishes she didn’t. Well,” Opal amended, “she does now. At first not so much. She may have _slightly_ threatened to shoot Korra if she let anything happen to me.”  
Asami stiffened, despite the jovial tone.  
“She got over that pretty quickly,” Opal reassured her. “She’s one of the only safe harbours for us on that entire shore. Depending on the plan you might get to meet her soon.”

They got a little distracted, and by the time they returned to Korra’s house the owner was already there, back out on the veranda. The books were back out as well, but Korra wasn’t paying them any attention, sat crosslegged on the floor with her fists touched together in front of her stomach, eyes shut.  
“Meditation,” Opal said quietly. “Best to not disturb her.”  
She set down the bottle, spinning the book to have a look at what Korra had been working on. Her lips moved a little as she read. The frown cut deeper between her eyebrows, and she turned to the still Korra as for an explanation. Asami was torn between feeling like she was violating Korra’s privacy and curiosity.  
“What does it say?”  
“Nothing good. I can’t quite follow all the shorthand but it looks like...” she leafed through a couple more pages. “Oh wow. Yeah.” Her fingers skimmed across an equation. “Even with everyone working flat out, we’re uh...” Opal didn’t look like she wanted to believe what she was reading. “We’re pretty much out of room.” She swallowed hard, stepping back but unable to take her eyes off the pages. Asami put a hand on her shoulder, trying for reassurance, but Opal didn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I knew we couldn’t just continue like this _forever_ , and it’s been getting a little tight on some supplies, but even so...What the hell are we going to do?”  
The air shivered. There was no other way to describe the sensation, nothing drastic but there was a tangible sense of something shifting.  
“We hope your aunt brings useful information.” Korra said, finally opening her eyes. “Because right now I’m running low on ideas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that was satisfactory; it's been so long I feel like my brain has gotten rusty but if I kept picking over it til I was satisfied who knows when you'd actually have gotten the update? 
> 
> I'm very sorry about the delay. The short explanation is: was writing an MA dissertation, then was drunk for about two weeks in post-submission glory, moved back home, got into an aimless slump, had some health problems in the family (but things seem to be ok now which is good), got a temporary job that made me very exhausted and generally ill-disposed to humanity, and suffered a data corruption that set me back yet again. And yes, that is the short explanation. It's been an odd few months. But I'm back now and hoping to be a little more regular in my updates. Feel free to come ask me things/yell at me over on tumblr. I'm spudking over there as well.


	14. A Change in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin's arrival isn't quite what Korra was hoping for.

Asami had heard of Lin Beifong by reputation. Fearsome reputation. She would have been the last person Asami would have guessed to ally with a pirate, but Korra wasn’t exactly a standard buccaneer. Clearly there was a little more flexibility in Lin’s ironclad code of honour than she let on.

From her spot on the headland Asami could see the ship approaching, the storm clouds reforming in its wake. She could also see Korra, sat a short way away from her and the rest of the group. She’d been doing a good job of pretending everything was fine, just as long as she didn’t think anyone was watching her. It wasn’t, as Pema had reassured Asami, one of her worse days, just a low mood that showed little sign of clearing any time soon.  It was understandable, as Asami found she had to remind herself when she started feeling petty. There were entirely too many lives resting on Korra’s shoulders, and Korra had a duty to them. That had been the bargain. Asami really did not want to know what would happen if Korra didn’t keep up her side of the deal.

The ship docked, and there was a rush of activity as they helped the crew unload the supplies that had been brought for the islands. One figure detached itself from the crowd, heading up the winding path that led up from the bay to the Temple.

Asami and Mako found themselves hanging back when Lin arrived. As much as she wanted to be able to trust Lin, as Korra apparently did, revealing herself to someone outside of the immediate group just felt like too big of a step for her right now. Mako was easier to explain; another sailor who’d opted to sign up, but he was sticking with her out of solidarity. Asami felt a little guilty about neglecting him over the past few days, but he’d felt he’d done much the same; they’d both been reunited with a long lost loved one, after all, albeit very different forms of love.

The meal that evening was polite and, for them at least, quiet. Despite Opal’s best efforts Lin was taciturn, though Asami wasn’t sure how much of that was just Lin being Lin. The woman wore full armour to dinner, for crying out loud. It wasn’t until afterwards that Korra made their excuses, heading off into the gathering dusk to discuss whatever business she had with Lin. Asami watched them go with an ever increasing feeling of unease. The others had built up a fire on the edge of the beach, bringing out the drinks, and Asami tried to wash down her discomfort with a mug of beer.

“Opal tells me you’re having issues.” Lin announced, brusque as ever, once they were a good distance from the others, right round the far side of the temple complex. “Anything I can help with?”  
Korra shrugged, like it was a trivial issue rather than something that had been robbing her of sleep. “Too many souls, not enough soil. I can’t bring everyone here, and I can’t just set up another refuge. There aren’t enough islands I can secure to make that work, not in the long term. If you work it out do let me know, I’ve only been at this three years.”  
“Fucked if I know, Korra.”  
“Useful as ever. Anything you can tell me?”  
Lin looked down. After a moment’s hesitation she drew the pistol from her belt.   
“You see this?” She held out, not offering it, just extending it so Korra could see. “I’ve tried everything. You know how hard it is to bend metal as opposed to stone and earth?”  
Korra nodded.  
“Well I’ve done some tests. Platinum is...well, it’s unbendable. Everything on here is platinum; mechanism, bullet. You lose a lot of power, but the trade-off is that a bender couldn’t do anything to stop it.”  
Korra looked from the weapon to the scarred, impassive face.   
“Now Lin,” Korra said slowly, “why would you be wanting a weapon like that?”   
Something tightened in Lin’s jaw as she turned it, training it on Korra. Korra sighed.   
“I was worried it would be that.”

Korra raised her hands slowly.  
“Lin, I think you’re making a mistake here.”  
“You promised me no innocent deaths, Korra!”  
“A promise I have kept!” Korra objected.  
“Oh, is that how you justified it?” Lin all but spat. “Damn you, Korra! I know you hate Hiroshi Sato, I know what he did to you, but his daughter had nothing do to with it!”  
“His...daughter...” Korra repeated weakly, mouth dry. “I... _What_?”

Korra’s confusion did not help Lin’s quiet fury.  
“I have two fire navy ships that saw you. Two full crews of witnesses. You had the ship under tow and left a sea of bodies behind you! You didn’t even leave him something for a burial! I turned a blind eye, I _helped_ because you were doing the right thing, because you promised me you had a code, and now this? This is how you repay me?”  
“I...Oh wow.”   
Korra’s head was spinning and the gun pointed directly at her chest wasn’t helping her concentrate. It was easy to be blasé in the face of gunfire when she could, to a certain degree at least, stop the bullets in the air. Knowing that she couldn’t was proving rather distracting. “Lin you...you have to believe me, it’s not what you think.”  
“Hiroshi’s flooded the seas with people looking for you.” Lin’s glare was ice cold. “Every captain, every privateer, everyone with a rowboat and a pistol is looking for you because of the price he’s put in your head. Out of kindness, out of _respect_ ,” The word was sneered, “for our former friendship I thought I should be the one to bring back to face justice. It seemed kinder this way, given what they’d do to your crew to get to you. Given what they’d do to you when they caught you.”  
Korra swallowed, trying to ignore the way her wrists had started to itch, the muscles tightening in her back.  
“That’s what this was, wasn’t it?” She asked, keeping her voice level. “Nice family meal. Way to say goodbye, am I right?”  
Lin didn’t react. Korra shook her head.  
“I _knew_ you’d brought more cargo than usual. I didn’t realise you were doing it to sooth your conscience.”  
The jab didn’t seem to land.  
“It’s not my conscience that should need soothing, Korra. Now please. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be. I don’t want to hurt you, sentimental old fool that I am, and I sure as hell don’t want the kids to have to see this. Let’s just go _quietly,_ ok?”  
“Lin!” Korra looked back towards the temple, the glow of the lanterns. “Please. Please just let me explain, ok? It’s not what you think I swear I’ll...I’ll...” she gesticulated for a moment. “Put in me in fucking platinum manacles for all I care, don’t even pretend you didn’t have a pair made up special for this. Just let me explain before you do anything that you can’t take back.”  
The muscles worked in Lin’s jaw. Very slowly Korra lowered her arms, extending them before her. The dying light glittered on the scars around her wrists. Lin closed her eyes for just a moment.  
“Because it’s you, Korra. Talk. _Please_.” There was just a hint of a plea in her voice. “Tell me why you did it. Give me some justification, give me a way out of this. Don’t me take you back to Hiroshi.”  
Korra relaxed as much as anyone can while at gunpoint, but she didn’t get a chance to explain things, because that was when Asami rounded the corner.

Asami’s unease had been building the entire evening until she’d finally had enough. Apologies were easier to acquire than permission after all, so she left the others and followed the path that Korra and Lin had taken. And found the latter holding her girlfriend at gunpoint. Asami didn’t even think. She wasn’t carrying her own gun, but she’d gotten into the habit of wearing a sword. Admittedly whilst on the island it was less for protection and more for the way it made Korra look at her, but it had been a habit worth forming.

Everything happened very quickly. Lin heard the shout and spun, seeing the woman with the cutlass bearing down on her. Korra tried to step between them. And the gun went off.

Asami heard the shot, felt Korra stumble back into her, the hot splash of blood, and it was like her whole mind went red hot. It didn’t matter to her that Lin was an experienced swordswoman, a legend in her own right, because Korra was down, _Korra_ was down, and there was a sword in her hand and she was not going to let this happen, not again. She couldn’t even hear the ring of metal on metal over the blood pounding in her ears as she hacked and slashed, forcing Lin back, didn’t hear the yelling until two arms locked around her midsection, heaved, and dragged her down backwards. She landed heavily on the other person, knocking the wind out of herself and the world rushed back in around her.  
“Asami! Asami for love of...It’s me, it’s me!”  
Asami stopped fighting to stand. The arms released enough to let her sit up and twist round to see Korra push herself upright. “But...she shot...” Asami’s frantic scan of Korra finally saw the stain on the outside of Korra’s bicep. Not the mortal wound she’d feared, not even close.   
“Clipped my shoulder. It’s not bad at all. See?” Korra took Asami’s hand, placing it over her chest, letting her feel her heart thumping frantically away. “I’m still here. Hey,” she cupped Asami’s cheek with her free hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
“She said...she was taking you to ...to Hiroshi...” Asami’s voice wobbled. “And I couldn’t...not after...” Korra squeezed her hand.  
“She’s not. I swear. Nobody’s taking me away from you.”

Korra got to her feet, wincing a little, pulling Asami up. Lin looked from one to the other, wrong footed and more than a little wary. Very slowly she lowered her cutlass.   
“I didn’t mean to shoot.” She admitted, in lieu of an actual apology. Lin wasn’t sure what the hell was going on but she knew out of her depth when she felt it and right now she was way, _way_ out.   
Korra rolled her eyes.  
“Well then, first off, learn some _fucking_ trigger discipline because I’m sick of people dying because of stray gunshots.”*  
Lin had to concede the point.  
“Who’s your overprotective friend?” She gestured at Asami with the non-cutlass hand. Even still Asami’s fingers twitched on the hilt of her own. She too wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but Korra was bleeding and Lin was the reason why. She wasn’t inclined to trust Lin overly much at this point.   
“This would be my rock-solid alibi for the murder of Asami Sato.”  
Asami started, ready to object on principle, but a gentle touch on her arm from Korra convinced her to stay quiet. Korra gave a half smile. “Lin Beifong, allow me to introduce you to, well, Asami Sato.”   
Lin’s jaw didn’t drop, but it was probably as close as it had ever got.  
“Very much alive,” Asami clarified coldly. “And very much here willingly, before you say anything. Korra never tried to kill me, Chief Beifong. Korra _saved_ me.”  
“Hiroshi had hired the crew for the express purpose of making sure Asami never claimed her inheritance,” Korra explained. “And, I have no doubt, bribed the captains of those navy vessels to discover the slaughter and tidy up his mess for him. I ruined that plan. I’m innocent, Lin, I didn’t do anything wrong. Well,” Korra reconsidered. “Nothing more wrong than usual.”  
Lin looked from one to the other, and sheathed her sword, the tension in her shoulders going slack.  
“Well thank fuck for that.”

Asami had had a head start but a gunshot tends to attract attention. Jinora reached them first, Mako hot on her heels for all the discomfort running caused his freshly healed insides, and the others not far behind. Opal skidded to a halt, and even at a distance Asami heard her groan ‘ _not more family drama’._ Korra tried to calm things down, but by this point her sleeve was pretty sodden with blood and even in the growing dark she couldn’t really hide that. Not that she tried overly hard. Korra had been shot before. She’d probably be shot again. That didn’t mean that being shot didn’t hurt like hell and she wasn’t above being petty about it. She kicked Lin in the shin as they started back towards the temple.  
“You’re telling Kya why there’s a bullet in my arm.”  
Lin swore.

Twenty minutes later Korra was sat on a bed in the temple sick room. Lin had been banished outside by a furious Kya. When she found out that the bullet was platinum, developed just for this occasion, she called Lin back in just so she could throw her out again.

Kya explored the wound gently, making Korra wince.  
“Looks like it took a bit of your shirt in with it, and unless you want to risk another infection...”  
“We’re going to need to get it out.” Korra groaned. “Ok. Give me five. Asami, ah, this might look a little weird, but I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Um. Maybe get Jinora in here, she can explain things a little better, but I kind of want to hurry because this _really_ fucking hurts and I’m feeling a little woozy, so...”  
“Ok,” Asami wasn’t sure exactly what she was agreeing to, but anything that involved Korra being in less pain seemed ok in her book. She wasn’t expecting Korra to draw herself up into her mediation pose. Kya seemed to realise that the chances of Asami leaving were close to nil, so went to fetch Jinora herself. By the time they returned it was quite clear to the two that knew what to look for that Korra had succeeded, but Asami hadn’t a clue. Not until Kya basically unfolded an unresisting Korra onto the bed.   
“What the fuck...”  
“Korra’s in the Spirit World right now,” Jinora explained, as Kya gathered her tools.  
“The Spirit...she’s dead??” Asami began, alarmed and Jinora hastily cut her off.  
“No, no, she’s fine! She’s perfectly fine. Well, provided she stays out of the rough patches in the Spirit World but that’s a whole...” Jinora stopped. This wasn’t the time for that. “Look, her spirit is currently in the Spirit World, but her physical body, as you can see, is still breathing. See?”  
Asami held a hand above Korra’s mouth and felt the reassuring breaths.   
“She’s just stepped out of it for a while. It means she won’t feel any of...well,” she waved a hand at where Kya was trying to dig the metal ball out of Korra’s arm. Even watching made Asami feel slightly queasy. “That. Which is nice for her. And when Kya is done I will go and get her.”  
Asami tried processing this, and just gave up. Every time she thought she had a handle on the weird it escalated. Best to just try roll with the punches the best she could.  
“You can do that too? Get to the Spirit World?”   
Jinora grinned.  
“Please. Meditating into the Spirit World is something only doable by the skilled and patient few. I _taught_ that knucklehead.”

Korra sat down on the bank of the stream, trailing her feet through the water. It was a peaceful little corner of the Spirit World, shaded by what might have been willow trees, except willow trees don't have such soft, almost silky leaves. Between the thick carpet of leaves and the soft earth the entire bank felt almost like a cushion.  
“I should bring Asami here.”  
_I think she would appreciate that_ , murmured Ravaa from within.  _She is not the distraction I feared she might be. I am glad for you._  
“High praise indeed.”  
Ravaa laughed, but she stopped.  _  
Korra, can you feel that?  
_ Korra wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to be feeling, but Ravaa guided her mind to the sensation. It felt uncomfortable, wrong, like the tangible equivalent of the sound of a nail on a blackboard. Like something scraping at the walls of the world.  
“Oh damn.”   
_Damn indeed._  
“As if we weren’t under enough pressure.”  
_Pressure? It’s only two worlds resting on your shoulders. Honestly, it’s a breeze._  
“You have a twisted sense of humour, you know that right?”  
_Live a few eternities. You’d develop one too._  
She, they, it got hard for Korra to tell which to use when Ravaa was feeling chatty, sat there in silence for a while, until Jinora’s ethereal form materialised beside her.   
“Feel up to coming back?”  
Korra heaved a long-suffering sigh.   
“I suppose so.”  
"Come on, grumpy. Asami's getting nervous."  
That got Korra moving. She stood, not that it was strictly necessary, and cracked a grin.   
“I’m going to be giving Lin shit about this forever.”  
Jinora rolled her eyes.  
"I'd expect nothing less."

Asami trusted Jinora. She did. But it was still a relief when Korra opened her eyes and sat up, looking for all the world like she’d awoken from a refreshing nap, because Asami had had enough nightmares over Korra lying limp and unresponsive and bloody to last her several lifetimes. Jinora stood up from where she’d been on the floor as Korra stretched out her arm.    
“Oh that stings.” Korra looked to Kya. “We good?”  
Kya gave a nod of affirmation. It had been messy and painful but the damage was minimal. Korra just wouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting for a few days.   
“Great!” Korra launched herself off the little bed with a wince. “Because I’ve just found a new problem. Hiroshi has got his greedy little hands on a load of Spirit Vines.”

Not too long ago Asami’s reaction to that would have been to shrug and ask “So what?”. Her worldview had changed somewhat since then.   
“I take it that’s not good?”  
Korra paused, and her distraction let Kya fasten the sling into place.   
“Remember that explosion in your father’s factory?”  
Asami was hardly likely to forget it. Without it she’d never have met Korra. Not that the explosion itself had been forgettable; the purple light had scorched her eyes so badly she’d squinted for days. “That’s what happens when people mess around with it. Get it wrong, it can level a factory. Get it right and it’s even more dangerous.”  
“How...”  
“He could rip holes through the fabric of reality.”  
Asami waited for Korra to grin, to make it a joke. It didn’t come.  
“...oh.”  
“Yeah.” Korra stretched out her shoulder and grimaced. “It’s why he’s top of my list. At the moment it’s all too volatile, but if he gets the recipe right he could replace the charcoal in gunpowder with Spirit Vine ash. Put those weapons into the hands of my enemies and suddenly every advantage we had would be lost. We’d lose not just the battle, we’d lose the war. And all that energy being released like that? Goodbye, physical world.”  
The doom-laden proclamation hung heavy in the air. Korra sighed. “Come on. I’m starving, and I want to pick Lin’s brain about all this.”  
Kya raised an eyebrow. Korra gave a one shouldered shrug.   
“Ok, I admit it. I want to kick her ass, _then_ pick her brain.”

Asami found herself slipping to the back of the group as the discussion went on around the great big map they’d spread out over the dining table, Korra alternating between pushing markers with her chopsticks and using them to shovel rice into her mouth. Apparently being healed took a lot of energy out of the patient as well as the healer. They all seemed to agree on two salient points. They couldn’t risk a raid on the island itself without risking provoking all-out war with the Fire Nation, a prospect they were all keen to avoid. And Hiroshi could not be allowed to escape because if he did he would just start the process over again; with his wealth he could set up again pretty much anywhere. Well, all but Meelo at least, who thought they should just go to war with the world, but nobody was taking his contributions seriously, and Ikki eventually pulled him over to a corner out of the way. Asami stared at the map, and felt the gears in her brain begin to turn. Could it really be that simple? They needed more room, after all...

She cleared her throat, and Korra turned round first. She knew the tone of that cough.   
“What if the Fire Navy wasn’t in a position to defend the island?”  
Korra glanced over her maps.  
“There’s a small militia force on the island itself, but that wouldn’t present a problem. But when the Navy returns...”  
Asami held up a hand.   
“Please. Just go with it a moment. We could take it? It’s just holding the area that’s a problem?”  
Korra cocked her head slightly as she nodded, clearly not quite seeing where Asami was going with this but more than ready to follow her lead.   
“So what we need, basically,” Asami tried not to draw it out but everyone was looking at her and she was hard not to peacock just the tiniest bit. “Is someone with a good relationship with a Fire Nation royal, one with influence enough to temporarily remove the navy from the area, and someone with a legal claim on the Sato estate that the Fire Nation would not just recognise, but support, allowing us to take all of Hiroshi’s assets _and_ use the island as a secondary base.” She grinned, because she could see the comprehension dawn in Korra’s eyes. “In short, ladies and gentlemen, what you need? Is _me_.”

Asami felt a little self conscious as the silence descended. She looked around the room, seeing a dozen variations on contemplation, confusion, and hope. She stopped, looking at Korra.   
“What do you think?” She asked. Korra set down her rice and stood slowly. She crossed the room to stand before Asami, face unreadable. The smile broke through like sunlight as she grabbed the front of Asami’s shirt with one hand to pull her close and kiss her hard. About half the room whooped, even Lin managing a small smile. Meelo muttered something about it being unfair and Jinora put a hand over his mouth.   
“I think,” Korra said, once she’d pulled away. “That you are bloody amazing.”  
There was a general cheer of consensus.   
“Iroh?” Korra clarified. Asami nodded.  
“Iroh. For all our brief engagement was an utter sham he was a dear friend, and a staunch if closeted abolitionist. I can persuade him.”  
Korra’s grin widened.   
“We have a plan. We have a plan!”  
She leapt onto the table, nearly overbalancing in her haste. Tenzin tried not to wince at the delicate, expensive maps crumpling under Korra’s feet.  
“You heard the lady! Lin, where’s Crown Prince Iroh likely to be this time of year?”  
Lin rolled her eyes.  
“Schmoozing with what passes for high society at some hellish backwater.” She said distastefully, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “I believe right now he is on diplomatic business in the Earth Kingdom, and his tour is bound for Zaofu.”  
Korra punched the air.  
“Ok. We need to prep the ship and supply. I want us looking respectable...” she paused, glancing round the room. “Ok. As respectable as we can, at least. I want _Ravaa_ careened, repainted, spruced and buffed, and stocked for a long voyage.”   
There was a pause. Korra stared around the room and sagged slightly. “And I realise that it is night time right now and half of us are drunk, so we’ll get started on that first thing tomorrow.”  
Bolin gave a cheer to that and Korra flipped him off good naturedly. She clambered down from the table a little abashed, but still with that madcap grin.   
“So, Asami. Is there an established protocol for a deceased woman to introduce her deceased girlfriend to an ex, or did those etiquette lessons skip right over that?”

The pair of them moved a little away from the group when the festivities picked up again, spilling back out across the dark grass under the stars. It had been a little bit of an emotional evening so far, and they were happy just to sit quietly with each other and a bottle of rather fine whiskey that had been part of Lin’s apology shipment. Lin had already pledged to bring a whole lot more on their next visit; it was clear that she felt rather bad about the whole affair.

Lin looked across to them from her deliberate position on the opposite outskirts of the group, and took a swig of her beer.   
“Don’t even start,” She muttered, hearing the footsteps behind her. Kya sat down beside her. “I know. I fucked up.”  
“Yeah you did.” Kya’s voice was colder than normal, but she softened. “She’s ok, and they’re ok.”  
Lin snorted and took another drink, looking away from Kya’s reproach.  
“I wouldn’t have done it, you know. I wouldn’t have given Korra to Hiroshi. Not after...I saw what that bastard did to her. I swore an oath to stop murderers, not hand people to a bloody torturer. I’d have done it myself, quick and painless. She wouldn’t even have known it was coming until it was already done.”  
Kya mulled this over for a moment, draining her glass.  
“It’s a fucked up old world when blowing out a friend’s brains could be considered a kindness.” She mused. “Lin, Korra _asked_ you to hold her to account, because she knew with all that power she might be tempted to cross lines that she shouldn’t. She’s not going to hold this against you.”  
“That’s not what she’ll hate me for.” Lin muttered, gesturing to the couple barely visible in the firelight.   
“Yeah, it’ll probably take you longer to atone for scaring Asami,” Kya agreed, bumping her knee against Lin’s. “But she will. We’re on the same side, after all, and we need all the allies that we can get.”  
Lin sighed heavily.   
“I suppose.”  
“ _huff, I suppose_ ,” Kya mocked. “Honestly. Drama queen.”   
Lin scowled.   
“I’ve already shot one friend tonight, Kya. I can easily make it two.”  
Kya just laughed.   
“Save the threats for when I start singing.”  
Lin groaned and knocked back what was left of her drink.

Everyone knew that they had entirely too much work to do in the morning, but nobody wanted to be the first to go home, even as the fire burned lower and the drink started to run dry, and Kya’s old nomad songs got ruder to the point Pema had her hands over Meelo’s ears. The winds had changed, and they all could feel it. Now they had a real chance.

 

*Am I still pissed about Lexa’s death? Maybe a little. Don’t worry, I’ll never do anything quite that shitty.  Well ok, I guess I kind of did at the start, but that was temporary!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asami Sato, saving the day again. Next stop Zaofu!
> 
> Questions, responses, incoherent angry screaming about my update schedule? Comment or come talk to me on spudking.tumblr.com.


	15. Shipping up to Zaofu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami's plan to enlist the help of Prince Iroh gets under way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm not delaying this any further with a lengthy introductory note.

Asami woke up with a stinking headache. She sat up, looking blearily around a room she had no memory of. By the look of the walls though they were somewhere in the temple. She was basically on top of Korra, the two of them deposited in a single narrow bed. Unfortunately she found this out the hard way when she tried to shift sideways onto where she’d expected there to be slightly more bed, and ended up toppling onto the unforgiving floor. Her flailing hand caught the blanket, dragging it off with her. The heir to the Sato fortune groaned pathetically, and pulled the blanket over her head to block out the early morning sun.

The second time she woke because the door slid open. Asami tried valiantly to salvage a little dignity but by the look on Ikki’s face it wasn’t working. She gave up, sitting up in her blanket cocoon.  
“Thought I’d wake you for breakfast. Long day of work ahead, and Korra’ll get twitchy if she’s not supervising.” Ikki said, but all the same she’d kept her voice low enough not to wake Korra. Asami readjusted her blanket, waiting for the girl to say whatever it was that was so clearly on her mind. Asami didn’t have to wait long. Ikki removed a heavy looking jar from the pocket of her robes, tossing it easily to Asami, who made a slightly flailing grab for it.  
“Kya makes it. Korra _swears_ she doesn’t need it, but her shoulders are a nightmare, and that’s without the extra complications of bullet holes and slings.”  
Asami raised an eyebrow. If you’d asked her to describe Korra’s shoulders she’d have gone through a lot of options before she got to nightmare. “Spectacular” was particularly high on the list, along with  few sentiments she wasn’t going to share with anyone as young as Ikki. Ikki seemed to spot her confusion and rolled her eyes.  
“Pain-wise,” she clarified. “She healed up better than anyone should have, but there’s a long way between that and perfect. Kya reckons some of it is probably just...well, not just as in ‘ _just’_ , but you know, in her head. From the trauma. Anyway.” Ikki flapped a hand dismissively. “She always says they’re fine, she’s fine, and then you see her trying to climb the rigging without using her shoulders and she’s just...” she flailed her arms at the elbows, shoulders rigid, leaving Asami in no doubt just how ridiculous it looked. It stopped being funny when she had to imagine Korra being stiff and sore enough to make that her only way to climb. She tucked the jar inside the blankets gratefully, and saw Ikki’s nod of approval. It promptly split into a wicked grin as she leapt across the room, aided by airbending, to land squarely on a still-sleeping Korra. The resultant roar probably woke people several islands over.

Breakfast was still a little tense. Korra rolled her eyes when she entered and spotted Kya and Lin sat together, and Lin still looked understandably awkward given the events of the previous evening, but there was no overt nastiness, unless you counted Korra freezing Ikki’s tea as payback for the rude awakening.

In Asami’s experience, careening was a long, laborious and downright dangerous process, for crew and ship alike. Beaching a ship without scuppering it was no mean feat; a slight miscalculation could mean irreparable damage or an unsteady ship that would risk the lives of the crew at work on her. Unless, of course, you could cheat. They didn’t have to run the _Ravaa_ aground and wait for her to be left high and dry by the receding tide. Under Korra’s careful supervision Bolin and the other earthbenders simply raised a cradle of sorts from the sea bed to lift the ship clear of the waterline, like a makeshift drydock. There was an anxious few moments on first contact, as timber groaned under the shifting pressures, but _Ravaa_ was lifted clear without incident and the crew, and many of the islanders, set to work clearing the barnacles and other ocean detritus from the hull to gain those crucial few extra knots of speed. Every inch was checked over meticulously, in case a lucky cannon shot had gotten past the crew to damage the ship, any planking even hinting of rot swiftly replaced. Everything was checked over, every scrap of canvas, every length of rope. Even with everyone exploiting the bending in some fairly ingenious ways it was clearly still an arduous process, and if this was the calmer version of Korra Asami really didn’t want to imagine what ‘twitchy’ Korra was like. She didn’t bark orders. There was no need to, the crew were well acquainted with what needed to be done, so there was nothing for her to do in her current state but hover awkwardly and fret. And at some points that hovering was quite literal, as she’d make to shoot off to some part of the ship only to be beaten to the punch by another member of the crew and have to come back down to earth. Asami eventually found the easiest way to keep both of Korra’s feet on the ground, or at least the raised seabed that was currently serving as the ground, was to keep a tight hold of Korra’s good hand, and squeeze anytime she could see Korra start to get frustrated. Neither of them were exactly complaining about the solution, even if Korra was still crawling the metaphorical walls. When sunset finally forced the maintenance work to an end Korra retreated to the warehouses, pouring over the ledgers of less-than-legally acquired goods, trying to calculate what would get them the greatest return at Zaofu. Kya tried in vain to persuade her to go over to the temple for another healing session, and ended up working on Korra’s bullet wound there at the desk. By the resigned expression, and the prepared waterskin, Kya had guessed the outcome in advance. Eventually Asami had to tow a still protesting, if barely awake, Korra back into their bed in their home.

Korra crashed out almost instantly, but Asami was left awake. So much of their plan hinged on her, on her ability to persuade Iroh of the rightness of their cause, on him not just still being the man she remembered but willing to undertake actions that were, in all honesty, against his country’s best interests. It was a hell of a gamble, with all too many lives hanging in the balance, and the idea of having to go through the whole thing without Korra at her side made it all the more nerve wracking; Mako at least stood a decent chance of passing himself off as a lesser son of some Fire Nation house. Korra really didn’t. Asami swallowed, staring up at the ceiling, so lost in thought she didn’t notice Korra, rather more awake than Asami had realised, shift until the other woman had pulled her close.  
“You think so loud,” Korra grumbled, but there was a questioning undertone to her voice. Asami thought about shrugging it off but then, before she could stop herself,  
“What if this doesn’t work?”  
Korra gave a sleepy, one shouldered shrug.  
“Then we keep going. It’s not the first setback. Won’t be the last.” She paused to yawn. “If it works you’ll be a hero. If it doesn’t, well, you’ll still be the one that tried and that’s more’n most’ll ever do. Do what you can, as well as you can. Can’t ask anymore than that.”  
From some people that might have seemed an empty platitude. From someone tasked with bringing balance to the world it meant rather a lot more. Asami still wasn’t exactly at ease, but she let Korra hold her a little closer and, eventually, managed to drift off.

Lin’s ship departed early the next morning. Things were still strained but Korra did at least make an appearance at the goodbyes. The sudden gust of wind that nearly sent Lin toppling off the gangplank was just a freak gust, and probably nothing to do with the grin on Korra’s face. Probably. Maybe. Lin’s eye roll suggested otherwise, but she didn’t say anything as she regained her balance and stomped up onto the ship.

The tugs towed the ship out into the open water. The sails were unfurled, and soon enough Lin’s ship was vanishing towards the ever present ring of the storm. Opal stayed at the dock, Bolin at her side, watching it vanish, but Korra headed back towards the storehouses and the work still to be done. Mako hung back awkwardly, not sure exactly where he should be or what he should be doing. He’d always been awkward, Asami was all too aware; their first few interactions had been nothing short of painful, though Asami was aware she shared some of the blame there. Being confined to quarters with an admittedly well-healing gut wound hadn’t exactly helped him integrate with the crew and the islanders at large, and despite Bolin’s evident joy at having his brother back it was evident the dynamic between the two had shifted. Mako had been Bolin’s guardian, pseudo parent, almost more than his brother. And now Bolin had a life that he’d made entirely outside of Mako’s influence and clearly didn’t need a protector like he had when they were children. It wasn’t a bad change, but it was a serious rearrangement of how things had been. Asami could relate. The difference was that Asami had actually had the spine to actually talk with Korra, rather than just hovering around hoping things were going to somehow shift on their own. So Asami did the decent thing, walked up behind Mako, and without any fanfare whatsoever, pushed him off of the dock.

There was a moment were they all stared as Mako surfaced, spluttering and flailing, and then Bolin gave an overdramatic _I’ll save you bro!_ And cannon balled into the water after him. Opal gave Asami an appraising look, shrugged, and followed suit. Airbenders had a bit of an advantage when it came to bombing competitions, it turned out, although Bolin yelled it was cheating to give yourself that much extra height.

By the time Asami trudged up to the house on the hill the sun was beginning to set. It was an odd feeling. She’d barely been able to go a stone’s throw from the house without her father foisting some chaperone on her. And now...now she barely even thought about it. Now _Mako_ didn’t even seem to think about it. It wasn’t much of a revelation, but all the same it put a bit more spring to her step as she climbed the hill.

Asami’s mood only improved on reaching the home. Korra was out on the veranda, maps spread across the table before, looking every inch the scheming pirate she was. Or she would have done, if she wasn’t asleep, callipers still in hand, hair fanning out over the Earth Kingdom’s coastline.  Asami scanned over the map, and frowned. The islands weren’t marked. She could understand leaving them off the shipboard maps, in the unlikely event the ship was taken, but leaving them off the ones held already at the island seemed paranoid in the extreme. She took the callipers out of Korra’s unresisting grip and laid them down by the sextant. Asami stopped. She looked back at the brass instrument, weighing down the corner of the map. It wasn’t exactly a cheap piece of kit, and pretty vital too, so it was weird to see it out without a cause. And there had to be no cause, because the sextant’s only use was determining latitude, and that shouldn’t be needed from a fixed point like an island. _Unless..._ Asami stopped. She looked from the sextant to the blank area of map that seemed to be serving as the start point of the journey. The words _‘but that’s impossible’_ lined themselves up in Asami’s head, but were quickly shooed away by her new reality. “Impossible” was being removed from her personal lexicon. The idea of a more mobile than average island didn’t seem quite so outlandish these days.  

By the time the _Ravaa_ was ready to sail Korra’s arm was almost back at full strength, to Mako’s quiet jealousy. His had, as Bolin kept reminding him, been just a tad more serious an injury than Korra’s, and he didn’t have the same unearthly energies to draw from to speed the process along. He was still recovered enough for Kya to give him the all clear to join the voyage which was a relief in itself; Asami knew she’d need someone to accompany her to see Iroh, and Mako had the best bet of blending in at a formal occasion, having attended a few in his role as Asami’s bodyguard. Even without that, Asami wasn’t sure how well Mako would have fared alone on the islands. She knew she would have done even worse; Mako got suspicious looks when he went off without the others from the rescued inhabitants, an unfamiliar Fire Nation face in a sea of displaced Water Tribe ones. Asami got outright hostile ones. She didn’t have Mako’s anonymity to hide behind. They knew who she was, who her father was, and not all were as prepared to see past that heritage as Korra. Asami could hardly blame them for their caution, but it upset Korra no end so she’d tended to remain on the central island or on Air Temple island as much as possible. It was just easier for everyone that way. It was going to be considerably less easy onboard; and while Asami hadn’t heard any complaints made directly, nobody had come storming up to the house at least, she had seen how long it had taken Korra to draw up her roster of sailors for the voyage. She’d fallen asleep on it once, and Asami had been loath to wake her.

The crowd that gathered to see them off was not as great as the crowd that had been there to welcome them, but it was still significant, canoes and little fishing boats serving as an honour guard as the _Ravaa_ made her way out of the harbour, heading for the storm wall.  
“How is it that you had to open a path for us, but Lin could just pass through?” Asami asked, and Korra looked pleased that Asami had noticed that.  
“Strangers. Too many unfamiliar people aboard when we returned, with an unfamiliar ship. They wouldn’t open a way for that, they’re too cautious But they’d recognise Lin, especially when we know she’s coming.”  
“ ‘They’?” Asami queried, and the grin just widened. Korra nodded over Asami’s should to one of the islands nearest to them. Rather nearer than Asami remembered it being. She could see the motion of it in the waves, drifting slowly but definitely in a way that had nothing to do with any current. “What the...”  
The water before the island was churning, something rising from the depths, craggy and ancient looking, something _attached_ to the island itself. No, a part of the island a...Asami blinked. A head. Korra and the crew gave the beast a respectful bow, Asami following suit half a second late in her shock.  
“The islands...they’re...”  
“They are the last pride of the Lion Turtles.” Korra inclined her head again as the Lion Turtle lowered its head beneath the waves, drifting back towards the rest of its kind. Asami could see, just about, the inhabitants getting ready to restring the bridge between the islands. “In the first days they sheltered humanity, kept us safe, taught us bending. And while our paths and theirs split centuries ago they’ve always been out here in the Wild Water. Now they offer us shelter again, protect us with the storm wall, guard the Spirit vines that grow here from those that would misuse them.”  
“With the added bonus that they can move. So even if anyone finds you...”  
“Exactly.”

The sea air seemed to reinvigorate Korra. All the tiredness that had been so apparent on the islands washed away in sea spray. She even rose early willingly, something that had startled Asami the first morning she’d woken to an empty hammock. Thankfully Bolin had been able to point her down to the prow before she could get too worried, and Asami was perfectly happy to trade momentary alarm for the sight of Korra sat on the bowsprit, one leg dangling over the water, watching the flying dolphin fish keeping pace with the ship in the early morning sunlight.

“Cap’n! Merchant ship, starboard bow!” came Meelo’s shout from the crow’s nest on the fourth day and Korra hurried to the rails, pulling out her spyglass and training it on the horizon.  
“Have we even got enough room?” Opal questioned, joining her. “The holds are pretty full, and we’re too far out to leave them in a lifeboat if we took the whole ship.”  
“Sometimes it’s not about the loot,” Korra said, eyes still on the prize. “Sometimes it’s just about making sure everyone knows our name. Bolin!” She yelled suddenly, making Opal wince and belatedly shield her ears. “Adjust course. All hands, ready!”

Asami tooled up in respectful silence as Korra applied her warpaint, knelt before the burning incense. This was no costume or prop, for it all struck fear into the hearts of those who saw it. Asami knew from her studies that the Southern Tribe had been wearing wolf paint for battle for centuries. This, for Korra, was a tangible link to home.

 There was a knock at the door. Ikki leaned around the doorframe.  
“We’re closing on them, captain.”  
Korra nodded, buckling on the belts of pistols across her chest, the cutlass at her waist.  
“Watch your back,” she warned. “It’s probably going to be a walk in the park, but you never know when somebody is going to something really brave, and really _stupid_.”  
“Like trying to stab one of your pirates?” Asami suggested, with a grin. “How is Suma, by the way?”  
Korra snorted.  
“He’d have deserved it,” she said, and Asami frowned because it didn’t sound like Korra was joking. Come to think of it, she’d not seen the man on the islands. “Come on, don’t want to miss the show.”

The merchant ship struck colours as they realised who it was bearing down on them. By the time the grapples had been thrown and the ship boarded the captain was already waiting with his first mate, the bosun, and the manifest ready to hand to Korra rather than face the wrath of the infamous pirate. Asami had to fight not to laugh because the whole thing just felt so surreal, because she knew that the pistol Korra was brandishing had no shot, and just enough powder to make a bang. She stopped wanting to laugh when she wondered if the gun Korra had forced into her father’s mouth had been similarly unloaded. Somehow she rather doubted it.

Korra ended up relieving the merchant ship of every last drop of alcohol they had on board, a dozen decks of cards, and one of the crew members of a rather nice hat. When the captain had questioned this, more out of shock than any real objection, Korra had just shrugged.  
“If it’s to your preference we could take your ship.” She offered, drawing back the hammer of the pistol with an audible click. Guns that had been lowered were raised all around. “Leave you in open boats, going mad in the heat as you watch us vanish into the horizon with your ship.” Her free hand rested very deliberately on the hilt of her cutlass. “Your choice.”  
“I...” The man was sweating bullets. “I...was just...we’ve also got some very nice salt beef, I was wondering if you’d care for some?” He all but squeaked out. Korra lowered the pistol, and gave him a winning grin that was just slightly undermined by the warpaint.  
“Jolly kind of you to offer, but we’re quite well covered on that score.”  
The loot was hurriedly being shifted over to the _Ravaa_ before the shock factor wore off. Jinora swung her across a rope and Korra grabbed it, stepping up onto the rails. She doffed her hat with the politeness of a prince, and swung back aboard her own vessel, leaving utter confusion and relief in her wake.

There really wasn’t room for too much more, so they broached one of the casks that night. And then another. And then, the following day, a very hungover boarding party alighted on the deck of an entirely different ship to demand that the crew hand over all their hats, as at some point the previous evening it had seemed like a fantastic idea to throw them all overboard. Asami couldn’t quite remember why, but Mako had made a very strong case for it, and consequently had not been anyone’s friend early that morning. Thankfully he regained a little goodwill by spotting the vessel to purloin replacement headgear from. That would be two vessels to spread the very confused word about the threats of the high seas.  

Asami killed time by drilling Mako with the courtly etiquette he’d need to blend in with the cream of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom society, even as they returned to their old pattern of swordplay. By the second day the crew didn’t even bat an eyelid at the two of them duelling on the deck, trading forms of address even as they traded blows, pausing to demonstrate a particularly complicated form of bow before parrying.

The dancing lessons were even worse, Mako cringing a furious scarlet as Asami attempted to instruct him in the various courtly forms on the pitching deck. One evening, after Mako had tripped spectacularly over his own feet to a round of well-meaning jeers from the crew, Bolin decided to spare his brother any more embarrassment and, after an exchange of rolled eyes with Opal, led her out to join them on the deck. Half an hour later, when Korra emerged from her cabin, she found every off-duty crew member twirling with about the deck with varying degrees of success. She opened her mouth to question things, at which point Meelo tried to trip up Ikki as he passed and was promptly tripped by Kya instead. Korra decided it was easier to just not question it.

Dancing lessons seemed to catch on after that. There were a couple of decent fiddlers on board, and those with less grace tended to opt just to sit and drink and watch those who were rather better, or more open to making prats of themselves, until it became too dark to see what was going on. Korra watched over it all, leaning on the rail of the sterncastle with her tankard in hand, revelling in the look on Asami’s face, in the way she moved. And laughing uproariously whenever a crewmember fell down an open hatch. A ship really wasn’t an ideal ballroom.

Zaofu clung to the side of a cliff, the natural harbour of the bay protected by sea walls. The citadel loomed above, part constructed, part carved out of the rock. Or maybe just formed directly from it; Asami had about a thousand ideas for bending, depending on its limitations, and was itching to find an opportunity to explore them.   

They didn’t head straight for Zaofu. With all the dignitaries gathering the port and the city would be crawling with extra soldiers, not conducive to keeping a low profile or particularly helpful when unloading stolen merchandise. Instead they docked around the headland, and after nightfall a select party took the boat ashore a little way out of town. Asami was barely surprised when, instead of concealing the boat by normal means, Korra and Bolin simply parted the sands and buried it just above the shoreline, before bending their boots and trousers dry so that it would not be obvious that they had come in from the sea.

Entering Zaofu was still easier said than done. The city walls were impressively built and well-manned, and while they could doubtless talk their way out of any trouble eventually, with Suyin’s assistance, it would be far easier just not to get caught at all. Having Opal with them certainly made that easier. Suyin would not have appreciated being called paranoid, but she had laid plans for what to do should the city ever been invaded. Unknown to the city in general this included the boring of a large tunnel though the surrounding cliff side to allow for an evacuation. The tunnel was sealed with stone on the seaward side, looking for all the world like untouched mountainside, but this was no deterrent to an earth bender like Bolin once Opal had pointed him at the spot. Korra took point with Opal, Mako in the middle of the group, lighting the way with handfuls of flame.

The far end of the tunnel was a rather more simply disguised wall. Opal waited for the all clear before sliding it open, slipping out into a corridor that had to be a part of Suyin’s citadel. There was still a risk of discovery; any early-arriving dignitary would be staying in the citadel, so they moved with caution, until Opal came to a halt outside of a door. There was still flickering firelight visible, glowing around the edges and through the keyhole. Opal opened the door, leading them in. Asami shut it behind her before taking in the room.

It was a parlour. Quite large, but not grand, not intended for entertaining anyone important. The fire was burning low in the grate, illuminating shelves of books whose titles Asami couldn’t quite make out, comfy-looking, slightly worn furniture. And, sticking out from one of the chairs, two feet.     
“Well, well. Look what the cat deer dragged in,” announced the occupant, setting aside a large tome. “I thought I glimpsed a familiar ship skulking out to sea.”  
Suyin rose from the chair, and oh the resemblance to Lin was all so clear. She looked Korra up and down, as cold and sharp as her sister. “I’ve been hearing things about you, Korra. Things I don’t much care for. Lin passed through this way, said you had a damn good explanation. I better hear that in the next five seconds, or this little reunion is going to sour fast.”  
Korra looked to Asami, who nodded.  
“Suyin, it’s my genuine pleasure to introduce you to Asami Sato. Yes, that Asami Sato.”  
And just like that all the stiffness, the hostility just melted away. Suyin blurted something that might have been a politer greeting and then, restraint finally giving way to motherly love, turned to Opal and nearly lifted her off her feet with a hug. And despite Opal’s groan it was quite evident the embrace was extremely welcome. Asami tried to ignore the throb of jealousy at the reunion between parent and child, but something must have shown because Korra took her hand. Suyin, for her part, was quite unaware, too caught up with her youngest. When they finally broke off Su gave the linked fingers a curious glance, but said nothing. She invited them to take a seat, retrieving a decanter and glasses from a sideboard to toast Opal’s return.

Korra toyed impatiently with her glass as mother and daughter talked, brandy twisting itself into whirlpools as her fingers drummed against the rim. If Suyin noticed she showed no sign, too engrossed in the conversation. Bolin was invited in by extension, Mako hovering awkwardly on the fringes, but Korra and Asami were left completely out. Opal was giving her mother the potted version, but it had been a long time since they’d last visited Zaofu and there was quite a lot to get caught up on. It wasn’t until Opal finally got Suyin up on their slightly less than uneventful voyage across that she finally faltered, looking to her captain. Suyin sighed, setting aside her glass.  
“And this, I imagine, is the part where you ask me for whatever favour it is you’ve come for.”  
Korra did her best to look insulted, but Suyin wasn’t having any of it. “No way you’d risk coming here at this time if there wasn’t something you needed, Korra, something you couldn’t get anywhere else. So what is it?”  
“We need access to Prince Iroh.”  
Suyin’s head snapped round to Asami, her voice suddenly cold once more.  
“And what could you possibly want that for?”  
“Not for anything untoward,” Asami hastily clarified. “I just need to talk to him. Just talk, that’s all. Your ball gives a perfect opportunity.”  
“Perfect, but for the fact you’d need an official invitation.” Suyin observed. She turned to Korra. “You really love putting me in impossible positions, don’t you? Isn’t it enough I risk the Earth Queen’s wrath by letting you trade out of here, never mind letting a bloody _wanted pirate_ mingle with high society under my roof?”  
“It won’t be me.” Korra tried to placate her. “Asami is more than equipped to handle a bunch of snobs, and she’s trained Mako enough.” Mako waved awkwardly, and then stopped as Suyin’s eyebrow arched. “They’ll blend in, no problem.” Korra continued, trying not to roll her eyes as Mako lowered his hand, embarrassed, “Eat a few little dainties, drink some little drinks, have a little chat and be out and forgotten before the washing up is done.”  
Suyin looked around the room.  
“As easy as that, huh?”

Su knocked back the rest of her glass in a decidedly undainty manner, crossing to the window to look out over the sleeping city. If she squinted she could just make out the masts down in the harbour, the flags slack in the dead air, obscuring the designs of several noble houses from the Earth and Fire Nations.  
“You.” She turned, fixing Mako to his seat with a glare. “I need a word. In private.”

They trooped out, Opal leading the way down to the kitchens. It was as good a place as any to wait, and Bolin wasted no time in raiding the larder. Korra found herself a bottle instead.

It was a little while before a slightly shellshocked Mako emerged, joining the party in the kitchen. Suyin stopped at the threshold. Korra rolled her eyes, hopped down off the counter she had been perched on, and followed.

Suyin settled herself in her chair. Korra dropped into the one that had been rearranged to face it. Suyin didn’t beat around the bush.  
“You know as well I do that that boy has no chance of passing for Fire Nation nobility.”  
“Do I?”  
“Don’t be difficult. It’s no slander on him, but he grew up being taught his place by no gentle means. You can teach him all the lines and all the steps, but when push comes to shove he’s going to return to how he’s always acted. He’s not got the balls to treat someone he knows can have him executed with a snap of their fingers as an equal or hell, as an inferior! He’s not got the arrogance to pass for nobility! And even if he did, who were you planning on passing him off as? Some lesser son? A forgotten house? These people know everyone, Korra! They’re all old families, they know who is who’s father for ten generations. Asami I have no doubt can play her part, but you’ll need a different partner in crime for her.”  
Korra sat up in her chair.  
“You’re not turning us away?”  
“For the spirit’s sake, Korra, you know I’m on your side!” Suyin said impatiently. “Just because I don’t want to see my family swing from a rope doesn’t mean I’m not still with you. You’re not the only one with a personal stake in this, remember?”  
Korra made a conciliatory gesture, shamefaced. Suyin’s heritage was hardly a secret. It had been quite the scandal given the Beifong’s standing as one of the greatest of the Earth Kingdom families, and had played no small role in Suyin’s move from the old family estates to this semi-independent city state.  
“Do you have an alternative in mind?”  
“It needs to be an outsider.” Suyin steepled her fingers. “Someone with enough standing that I could conceivably know them, but none of those chinless twerps would ever have a reason to have met. Someone who can blend with that sort of crowd.” She looked across at Korra, purloined bottle still in hand, booted feet up on the side table. “Someone with that, well, let’s call it confidence.”

The longer Korra was out of her sight the twitchier Asami got. The last time Korra had been alone with a Beifong she’d ended up with a bullet in her shoulder. Even with the brothers and Opal trying to distract her Asami was halfway to the door when Suyin returned, a thoroughly un-shot Korra in her wake. The quiet conversation came to an immediate halt.  
“You will have your invitation. Korra has the details. While I’d be glad to have you in my home a while longer I feel it would be safer for all of us if you return to your vessel tonight.”

The journey back seemed to take no time at all in comparison. It was only when Asami started hauling herself up the ladder that she began to feel the toll of spending half the night infiltrating Zaofu. She mde her excuses and headed to the cabin. Korra hung back. She needed a word with Mako, after all.

Asami slept in late. The sun was already well up by the time she stumbled out of the cabin, finding the crew assembled on the deck. Korra was clearly reaching the tail end of her briefing on the plan for the next few days, stood on the rails of the quarter deck like a pulpit.  
“And remember! We cannot afford a slip up. There is too much riding on this. If we are revealed, if we’re exposed for what we really are then Zaofu will no longer be safe for us. The Fire Nation could wreak terrible vengeance on the Beifong family for their aid. Above all that must be avoided.” She stopped, and when she spoke again her voice was lower. “I chose you all for this mission. Handpicked, each and every one of you. I know we can pull this off. I know we can spit in the eye of the Fire Nation even as we steal the most glorious victory from under them. But we must hold our nerve now. If we falter, if we so much as blink, all is lost.” She stopped again, surveying the crew. “I can trust you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. “You know what it is we fight for. You know how we’re going to do this. You know that we can do this.”  
There was a mumbling of assent, and Korra finally cracked a grin.  
“Was that an ‘aye’ I just heard?”  
This time the assent was a roar.  
“That’s what I thought. To your stations, you lily-livered bastards!”  
With what could only be described as a collective snort of laughter the crew set to it. Korra vaulted down from the rails and caught Asami in an unexpected but entirely welcome kiss. Behind them a flag was being raised, not the usual one depicting Ravaa but a different, unfamiliar design.  
“We sail into Zaofu tomorrow. Two days to unload the goods before this shindig. We can’t falter, Asami...”  
Asami snorted.  
“I’ve been played the dutiful Fire Nation lady for many years, Korra. I’m not worried about slipping up.”  
“That...is actually a very good point,” Korra conceded. “And I will try and remember that, but please don’t hold it against me if I get a tad nervous given that, if we take into account the threat your father poses to the fabric of the physical world, the whole world is riding on our shoulders on this.”  
Asami blinked.  
“Did...was that really...” she paused, unscrambling her thoughts from the sudden bloom of panic. “I think I would have preferred you to keep that reminder for _after_ we pulled it off.”  
“Duly noted, and will be remembered in all future infiltrations of royal soirées.”  
Asami laughed.  
“Damn, I wish it was going to be you, you know? At my side for this one? I trust Mako, I do, but...”  
She sighed.  
“I know.”

It was not a restful night for either of them. Asami was drifting in and out, starting slightly when Korra slipped out of the hammock. She sank to the floor of the cabin, knees tight to her chest, moonlight glinting across her back. Asami couldn’t marshal her thoughts enough to speak up, slipping back into sleep.

When Opal woke Asami in the morning there was no sign of Korra in the cabin. At least the breakfast Opal brought with her was a welcome sight. Opal was wearing loose clothing, her hair back in a bandana, and any casual observer would easily have taken her for an unremarkable member of the crew, not the Beifong heiress.

Opal had brought, in addition to the food, a dress. One of Asami’s own, liberated from the hold of Zolt’s ship what felt like a lifetime ago. A piece of a life Asami had been only too happy to leave behind her. She tried to remember how it felt, waking up every morning, putting on that face, that dress, that armour against the world, that mask to hide behind. Hells, it all felt so long ago. A life half remembered.  

Asami had quite forgotten just for uncomfortable and restricting a formal dress could be after weeks of practical trousers. As a final touch she took her mother’s ring from the chain around her neck, slipping onto her finger. It felt a little like betrayal to use it as a disguise, but Asami consoled herself with the thought that Yaskuo would definitely have approved of the endeavour. Besides, she needed a ring to pass in her role as dutiful Fire Nation wife, and the thought of using another seemed even more discomforting than not. Opal gave her an approving once-over before they left the cabin.

Stepping onto the deck, the dress clinging and heavy, felt like stepping back through time. The crew did not greet her cheerily any more, knowing their role. And then Asami stopped, faltered, because there was Mako. Not dressed as the little lord but sat with a few off duty sailors in the same hardwearing clothes he’d been wearing the previous day, playing cards.  
“What...”  
Mako stood hurriedly, bowing respectfully.  
“My lady.”  
“Mako what...” Asami couldn’t finish her sentence; it couldn’t all be going wrong so soon, it just couldn’t.  
“Asami, relax,” Mako closed the distance between them. “It’s ok. I’m not...I’m no actor. We both know that. You’ll going not as my wife but the wife of Commodore Kuruk.”  
“Kuruk?” Asami repeated in disbelief. “Who the hell is Commodore Kuruk?”  
Mako nodded towards the sterncastle. “Go see.”

Asami hurried aft, clambering up the stairs as fast as she could.

The man on the deck was not facing her, looking out to sea with a brass telescope, impeccable in the dark blue uniform of a Southern naval officer, dark brown hair drawn back into a neat plaited wolftail. On noting Asami’s approach he lowered the telescope, collapsing it between his hands as he turned to face her, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. And then Asami stepped a little closer, so that the early Sun wasn’t quite so much in her eyes, and she yelped. Korra pocketed the spyglass, adjusting the embroidered lapels as Asami drew closer, still gaping.    
“What do you think?” She asked, her voice pitched rougher and deeper than Asami had ever heard it, spreading her arms and doing a half turn. “Think you can stoop to having me accompany you to your little party?”  
Asami nodded dumbly, still taking in the transformation.  
“How...”  
“The short version? A damn good tailor, more carefully applied bandages than is healthy, and too much time with Ikki messing with my hair.”  
“Well it certainly works for you, Commodore Kuruk,” Asami dropped into an exaggerated curtsy. Korra made an equally excessive bow.  
“I could say much the same, Lady Yasuko.” She straightened up. “To Zaofu?”  
“Let’s go crash a party and save the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that finally happened. I don't really know how to apologise for the delay. I've had so much of this written for so long and I've just been staring at the screen yelling at it because I can't even put a word on the page without wanting to go back and delete all of it, but I'm hoping this will at least get the ball rolling again. At least it's longer than usual? Massive thank you to everyone who's been commenting and sending messages in the interim and keeping me motivated enough to finally get back to this. 
> 
> And yes, the thing with the hats was stolen from a real life pirate called Benjamin Hornigold. But it seemed too much like something they would do not to borrow it. 
> 
> As always, feel free to come yell at me at spudking on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback welcome, no matter how scathing!


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